#now i have to only put together the background in blender

[dnptheinfinity]

did i procrastinate the tit sims render until now? yes. BUT i did finally find the phlonde hair for phil, i'm finally free

[cy-cyborg]

Ok so the saga with my old PC continues and is only fueling my desire to get back into fanfiction lol because I found all of the files from my attempt at making a legend of spyro fan-game! I honestly thought they were lost, I'm so excited to see all this stuff again! This was the "logo" for the game (I know its nearly unreadable lol, so it says "The Legend of Cynder, Shadows of The Past". 14/15 year old me didn't seem to care much for readability, I think I'd just discovered photoshop's layer effects lol)

Here's a bunch of random stuff I found.

I'm defiantly going to do a redraw of that last one at some point. That was like, THE thing I remember being super proud of when I first did it. I think it was going to be part of the trailer my now-partner was putting together for the game lol.

Actually, a lot of these were actually just frames from animations, but either the files are either just corrupted, or high school me didn't know how to set fps and resolution properly in the output so I got a headache trying to watch them lol. It's probably the second one honestly. Also I remember my old laptop wasn't able to play back the animation because it would lag so much, so I just had to kind of...guess at timing, and that went about as well as you'd expect. It didn't help that blender used to have this bug where your audio would move around your timeline so it really was just random guessing. I'm amazed anything got done at all, let alone how far we actually got (that is to say, not far at all but we had something playable at least).

I also found the demo files and footage of the "game" running (running at 12fps but running)! I'm curious if they still work, I'll have to download an older version of blender to test them out!

There's actually a lot more but actually finding it is proving to be quite a challenge since this laptop seems to be the digital equivalent of an ADHD "doom box" - meaning nothing is sorted into folders that make even a remote lick of sense to me, it's all just kind of thrown in together lmao.

I wanted to post these though because even though I don't really do 3D stuff anymore, It still made me really happy to see how much progress I've made over the years and how far I've come. Also a few folks who worked on this project with me back on Deviantart have started finding me lol, so in case there's anyone else out there, hello! I'm not dead, I'm still around, I'm just a lot more (openly) queer now lmao.

Image descriptions:

[ID 1: A game title that reads "The Legend of Cynder, Shadows of the Past". The two lines, "the legend of" and "shadows of the past" are written in dark purple text. The purple material is supposed to look like liquid, but instead just looks hard to read. "Cynder" is writen in black, 3D text with red outlines, with the exception of the C. The "c" is modeled as a black tube instead of in a blocky style like the rest of the letters. The inside of the C has a red underbelly, and the bottom of the C ends in a tail, resembling Cynder's from the Legend of Spyro Series. There are 3 white spikes at the top of the C. /end ID]

[ID 2: a 3d render of 4 dragons around a christmas tree. A black dragon at the front, Cynder, is using her tail to hang tinsel, a pruple dragon, Spyro, on the left is reaching up into the branches of the tree. A blue dragon, Ignitus, is hovering behind the tree, his paws outstretched, implying he is placing the glowing star at the top. On his head is a silver dragon, Zerali, balancing on his horns. behind them is a series of floating islands. /End ID]

[ID 3: A render of Cynder with a darker colour pallet than the previous image and glowing yellow eyes, snarling at the camera, guarding a black gem. The sky in the background is blood red and the terrain is flat and barren. /End ID]

[ID 4: A render of an incomplete model of Terrador, a green dragon with brown horns and rocky shoulder decorations. He has no underbelly or wings. /end ID]

[ID 5: A render of a fan character named ekkosel, a blue, anthropomorphic dragonfly with an unsettling, uncanny face and green wings, T-posing. Her green wings are a blur /End ID]

[ID 6: two sketches of a anthropomorphic cheetah heads. One has long ears like a lynx and is labeled DotD design, the other has small, rounded ears like a cheetah usually has, labled TLoC design. /end ID]

[ID 7: A render of Zerali, the silver dragon from the second image, and ekkosel, from the 5th, playing together. In this image, we can see Zerali has a pinky-purple underbelly and shiny gold horns.]

[ID 8: A rendered scene showing a close up of blue ignitus with his eyes closed. He appears to be talking to Cynder, who is in the background, but blurry. The game's logo is visible in the bottom left of the image. /end ID]

[akaanonymouth]

“This is the third meal you’ve missed this week, are you okay?”  For the trauma prompt thingy please.

PTSD Mogadishu

Bernie’s recovering; she’s started talking more, they spend time together just sitting and walking, and watching tv, reading, and Serena cooks all the meals. But then Serena realises that Bernie’s made excuses for dinner three times, since she’s been off the hospital regulated meal replacement shakes.

She makes a lot of excuses at first, twists a fork around her plate, sometimes, when she does sit down, which is never for long once she lifts one to her mouth. 

Eventually, Serena broaches the subject, when they’re sat on the sofa, Serena having foregone her planned paella and chucked ice cream and bananas in a blender, tried not to watch as Bernie devoured it. 

“Sometimes I don’t think about it, because I’m hungry,” Bernie says, and Serena starts. It’s been an hour since Serena wordlessly handed her a milkshake, sat next to her on the sofa and put some mindless background noise on the television. Bernie studies it avidly, as though her Spanish has ever been good enough to follow the dramatics of a telenovela. “But then, when I’m not hungry, I think about it, and it sets it all off again. There’s no rhyme or reason,” Bernie shrugs, setting her empty cup onto the coffee table, still studiously avoiding Serena’s eyes. Serena watches as her fingers start to rub at the skin on her wrists, and it takes all of her will not to close the gap between them and engulf her in her arms. “It’s the texture, I think,” Bernie continues. “Not being hungry, everything aching and the effort it took to move any part of my face when stale bread was forced into my mouth by warm fingers,” Bernie swallows convulsively. “They were smoke stained, dirt stained, rough…large…” she swallows again, her fingers working harder at her wrists. “Being hungry, but only having rice. Dry, don’t even know if it had been cooked, or whether it was just left out. Crunchy. Makes your tongue feel funny when your mouth is already dry and you’re trying to swallow. Hard and dry and it rattles around your mouth that’s already hard and dry, and it’s like teeth, loose broken teeth rattling around your mouth, there’s no water, and the whole feels of it makes my tongue go numb, my brain itch-” Serena notices Bernie’s shift between first and second person, present and past tense, doesn’t quite know if she should intervene yet; it’s the most Bernie’s talked about any of it since they addressed her ribs and facial bruises, and that had rendered her mute for another three days. “And I have to swallow, I have to make myself swallow, got quicker at it, better at it, otherwise they…” she shudders. “I make myself, because if I have no strength when I need it, then I’ll never get out when I get the chance, never get to see Serena again-” 

Bernie’s breathing is quickening, she’s started rocking, so Serena leans forward and gently touches one of her hands. “Bernie,” she says, gently, and Bernie starts violently, wide eyes swinging wildly to Serena. Serena keeps eye contact, stroking her wrist gently, until Bernie visibly relaxes, the initial terror leaving her eyes.

“It was always for you, S’rena. Getting out,” she stares intently at Serena for seconds in which Serena hopes understanding and love shines through, before her eyes drop, buried under her fringe as she shrugs and smiles almost scathingly, her gaze now unable to settle. Her fingers scratch at Serena’s, instead of her own wrist. “It’s the textures. The warmth, the sounds in my head, being hungry, not being hungry… I don’t…It’s just…” she huffs, breathes deeply. “Just an awkward bastard I suppose.” She shrugs self-deprecatingly, but Serena refuses to let it go as a flippant conversation. 

“Bernie, no, you-”

Bernie pulls her hands away, grabbing at and running them through her hair and over her face. “I can’t even eat a meal with you, Serena!” she cries, voice breaking. “I don’t want your pity, I just want to be able to eat a plate of food with my partner without feeling sick and falling apart!” 

Bernie falls apart. 

Like grains of dry rice on a fork, Serena tries to hold her together. 

When Bernie wakes, mouth and eyes dry and everything else aching, she’s momentarily frozen. Blinking and breathing her way through the fear induced nausea to rationality, the events of the previous evening come back to her. She curls in on herself, ready to block out everything once again, until her eyes land on the bedside table, and a large glass of juice sat on it. 

Eventually, she makes her way to the kitchen, blinking in the almost midday sun streaming through the windows and open patio doors. Serena watches her approach, doesn’t move, doesn't even uncross a leg or close the book on her knee, waits until Bernie sits gingerly on the chair opposite her by the table laden with bowls of chopped fruit and some soft, milky looking things Bernie can’t even name. 

Serena pushes a mug of coffee towards her. “We’re in Spain,” she says, softly. “But even if we weren’t, wherever we are, you never have to eat dry food ever again.” 

Bernie takes a small piece of melon, pushes it between her lips, marvels at the way it melts in her mouth. She lifts her head to the sun, eyes closed. “You just have to keep talking to me,” Serena whispers. Bernie opens her eyes, finally meets Serena’s from under her fringe. Serena reaches her hand across the table. “But it’s alright,” she says, corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiles and Bernie tickles her wrist. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

[davidmariottecomics]

Tools of the Trade

Hello hello! 

I'm *hoping* this'll be a pretty quick blog today because I have a lot of ideas kicking around my head and want to focus on trying to write some of 'em! But inspired by the new Creator's Guide to Comics Devices (we'll get to that in a sec), I want to talk about some resources that I've accumulated over the years that can help with everything from the fundamentals of comics storytelling to good reference to software and fonts and printers and distribution platforms and more! 

As a disclaimer right up top, some of these resources I have not personally used--I haven't done a lot of crowdfunding, I haven't worked with some of these smaller printers, etc--though I will say that these are things that're coming recommended to me and I'm passing along that recommendation. If you've had a really bad experience with one of these, or know some dirt, let me know! I'm always happy to stand corrected on this sort of thing. 

Lastly, a number of these things I'll point out specifically as an alternative to other software or expected resources. Alright, let's boogie! 

Making Art Not being an artist, I can't speak exactly to what tools will work best for you! The good news is, as an artist, you probably already know that and don't need me to tell you what sort of pencils, pens, brushes, inks, etc work best for your style. However, I will say, I've seen some glowing recs for Eon paper. If you're working traditionally in any way (I know some people work hybrid), good paper is important. 

If you are working digitally, I think the two sort of biggest contenders outside of Photoshop right now are Procreate and Clipstudio. Becca uses Procreate and really likes it. The downsides are that I believe it is Apple exclusive (and not on desktop) and while I've seen plenty of pages come out just fine that were in part or fully produced in Procreate, it does sometimes lack some of the functionalities for what you might need--I know folks who've had trouble doing clean flats, for example. I know a lot of folks use Clipstudio with great success, but I also know there's a bit of controversy around some of their 2.0+ updates including only working on a subscription fee if you want to use it on a tablet or non-desktop device (and/or want the updates they release) and something about like, it not working if you aren't on wifi? 

I personally have had good experience with Affinity's Designer and Photo. But I am not an artist, so while I think they're good for doing some of the production side of art--I've used them for lettering and prepping files and making little social graphics and stuff--I can't speak to how helpful they are as a full art tool. I will also say, as long as I'm talking about Affinity, their Publisher tool is pretty good too and with the Affinity suite, you can get a lot of what you would want out of the Adobe suite. 

Art Reference

Look, you're smart. You don't need me telling you where and how to find reference. It's all over. There are hundreds of books and websites and resources for artist reference. You can go find some live models or pose one of those weird little wooden dolls or turn around a toy or whatever. 

But! With that said, here're a couple big ones. Blender is itself an art tool! It's a lot less common for comic art to be fully produced in Blender than, say, animation, but Blender can be a really helpful way to put together thumbnails or consistent backgrounds. You can build a room and move it around for what you'd need to see in a panel and have that as a base when doing your art. You can use it for lighting studies. Lotta possibilities! 

If you can be cool, you can maybe get access to Fat Photo Ref. It's what the name says, an archive of photo reference by and of fat people, who unfortunately are often not included in your standard art reference collections and books. I'll also plug that the Morpho art book series has a very well regarded Fat and Skin Folds volume. Linking specifically to that one, but you can find the whole series from the link and get it from an indie bookstore! 

And as someone who has long pointed people to things like Wally Wood's 22 Panels that Always Work and Steve Lieber's 12 point portfolio critique without even looking (which I riffed on for writers here and also talk about like... finding agents) and all the thoughtful analysis on the craft and creation of the medium from Scott McCloud (I'm not linking Understanding Comics... you probably already have it), I think that the aforementioned Creator's Guide to Comics Devices is the logical progression of all of that. It is a free collaborative resource about the way comics storytelling works. 

Writing, Lettering, and Additional Craft 

I believe I've shared this before, and have said it's not my actual preferred format when I write, but Steenz and Camilla Zhang created a standard script template for comics. I think this is very helpful for people who don't know what a script looks like and, obviously, if you find yourself wanting to modify it to better suit your needs, you can! But this gives a really clear picture of what the general form will look like for maximum sharability with your collaborators. 

Comicraft and Blambot are two of my favorite font houses (and lettering houses)! They have fonts that you see in your favorite comics for reasonable prices, including often big discounts or fonts that are free for indie use (though obvs read the terms and conditions). They have packs including like premade balloons that can help ya get started easier. Both of their books on comic lettering, Comic Book Lettering the Comicraft Way and The Essential Guide to Comic Book Lettering, are excellent and should be considered the tomes they are. Sara Linsley's fonts are also great, particularly if you're doing more manga or webcomics inspired books.  And if you don't want to be a person who has to spend a lot of time thinking about fonts and getting MainType or another font management software (I don't do a lot of it, but I've gotten really into teaching myself lettering and I do think it's pretty fun), do us both a favor and just hire a letterer. 

But if you want to learn more about lettering, Todd Klein also has a really amazing blog! 

Printing

There are a lot of professional printers that print comics. Many of them that are printing for publishers have a very high threshold for minimum orders. If you aren't printing 2K copies, they aren't going to print your book at all because that's how they have to ration their paper and run their business. 

But I know of a couple of printers that do smaller print runs for indie comics. I've heard really good things about RA Direct and about Comix Well Spring. Something I'll flag right here and now is that whether it's one of these or another printer, early in the process--before you pay for anything--you should take some time to email the printer about any potential issues you might have. This can be anything from confirming your specs are correct and you've got the right overprint on your blacks to checking if the printer has any sort of issue printing 18+ sexual material or dismemberment or if you have anything that might be on the line of fair use. Like, it'll help you both out to get that sorted early and easily. 

As a brief detour, I've also heard good things about both Alibaba and have used Vograce with Becca, if you're looking for merch for shows--y'know, keychains and pillow covers and pens and pins and whatever else you may want to create with your art that is not strictly comics themselves. 

Distribution - Subscriptions

I'm talking specifically digital subscription platforms that are not webcomics hosting sites and that are subscription sites of any sort, not just stores/places your art lives. So no like Webtoon or Artstation or Shopify or whatever. Basically, your Patreons (you know Patreon, but you could sub to mine) and uhh... Substacks. But maybe better than those options... 

I host this blog on Patreon, that's true. I also have it on Tumblr and on my website. And I sent it out as a newsletter through Buttondown! They are super friendly and concerned with making the service work! It's awesome and I highly recommend it over Substack which, as you may recall, I have some issues with. My Buttondown is free, but you can have paid subscriptions. I've also heard some folks say good things about Ghost as a similar sort of alternative. I can't speak to that the same as I can Buttondown, which, again, I really like, but I know some people who use Ghost. 

In terms of Patreon alts, options are not great, TBH. Kofi has memberships (plugging mine which is membership-less). But I believe Kofi is also a lot stricter about what sort of content you can post and host--similar to the sorts of questions I was suggesting you ask a printer about earlier. Fanbox through Pixiv is something I see some folks use. I think it's largely international folks. I also, again, think it has some content restrictions though I'm not entirely sure how enforced they are. I feel guilty enough using Patreon (lol this being posted there), but I really can't recommend Subscribestar. I've heard good things about them as an alternative--like, I hear they're maybe the closest in practical functionality and are a lot more adult material friendly than some competitors, but I have a lot of the same problems I have with Substack and Patreon with them. Like, Patreon isn't perfect, but some of the more horrific elements of humanity that cannot operate on Patreon have found a home there and that stinks. 

The one non-subscription option I will highlight is, and again, I don't think it's perfect, but I know people who have had good experiences with itch.io. If you're looking for a place to sell some digital comics outside of your own website, there are far worse options. 

Crowdfunding 

I think we've all ceded IndieGogo to the worst parts of comics. Obviously, Kickstarter is still the big one that people really think of and like many of these prominent versions of the service, it has its good and bad. There is name recognition and a track record of projects getting funded and paid and completed, and there are criticisms. But that's true of lots of things. 

There are also a few options that're a bit newer in the space. Backerkit has been a part of a lot of fulfilment of Kickstarter campaigns for a long time and now operate their own crowdfunding platform. I know Iron Circus uses them. I've heard a little bit about Crowdfundr and am pretty sure I know some folks who've given that a shot. And I know one of the co-founders of Zoop and they've been helping get a lot of really cool projects made recently. 

Final Recs

BLEH! This ended up taking a lot longer than I expected! Oh well. You don't know. You're reading this and it is not happening in the realtime it took to write it. So, final resources I'm going to throw your way as jumping off points for more! 

1. Cartoonist Cooperative! Guess what, for basically everything I just said, they have EVEN MORE RESOURCES! They also do mutual promotions and support and are a really great community based initiative! 

2. Creator Resource! Similarly, they also have even more resources! Their database/articles include a lot of stuff like more about finding agents and publishers and page rates and marketing and this that and the other thing. Between the two of those, you're going to have a lot of whatever you would need to get started and have not just a rounded out knowledge, but access to a knowledgeable community. 

3. Curiosity's Corner from Wildstar Press! Wildstar's mission is really cool. They're an indie publisher that focuses on helping new creators get their first publishing credits and work they can share to get more jobs. And they've recently started a guide that's not dissimilar to this blog on how to get started on having a comics career. 

4. This is just a general reminder. Make a website that has a way to contact you. Make an email that maybe can be public facing but that you're comfortable using for work and dedicate it to that. If you're going any place where you think you might make industry contacts, bring business cards. We live in the future and you can put your portfolio or samples on a QR code on your card. Find or make communities. I'm not great about it myself, TBH (and that's a little intentional because being an editor, working at a publisher, there are reasons on both sides to create this distance), but like... I dunno. Get on Discord or something. Have a group text. Like, have a way to reach out to your peers. 

Like I said earlier, if you have corrections to be like "nah, this thing sucks, don't recommend it" or if you have additional recommendations, please share them! Don't DM me because I've been very bad about answering those because I am going to be shuttering Twitter soon, but y'know, if it's something you can share publicly, reply on post where you saw it or on the website (comments in a rare move are open on this unless something happens). If you want to share anonymously (or like... invite me to a Discord or something), there's always my contact page. 

Okay, I'm off to write fiction now! And should probably reach out to some folks to draw it soon. 

L8rs!

What I enjoyed this week: Blank Check (Podcast), Solve This Murder (Podcast), One Piece (Manga), Sonic Superstars (Video game), The Archive Undying by Emma Mieko Candon (Book), Reverse 1999 (Video Game), Yu-Gi-Oh: Duel Links (Video game), Last Week Tonight (TV show), The Simpsons (TV show), I said Thirsty last week, but I meant Steamy, the last book in the trilogy from Space Between, but it did make me go back and read Thirsty and Cheeky again too (Comics - Adults only), Five Nights at Freddy's was fine but like... I don't think I'm the target audience and we only saw it because we pay for Peacock and didn't give additional money to the bad man creator (Movie), Phantom of the Paradise (Movie), Scream 3 & 4 (Movies), Batman: The Brave and the Bold (Cartoon), Joe Pera Talks with You (TV show), Witch Watch (Manga), Halloween, Godzilla Day, Spooky's Jump Scare Mansion (Video game... well, until I got too spooked), wanting to write. 

New Releases this week (11/1/2023): No new books from me this week. Don't worry, next week makes up for it. 

Final Order Cut-Off next week (11/6/2023): Godzilla Rivals: Jet Jaguar vs. Megalon (Editor)

New Releases next week (11/8/2023): Godzilla Rivals: Round Two (Editor on most of it) Sonic the Hedgehog #66 (Editor) Sonic the Hedgehog: Knuckles' Greatest Hits (Editor) Sonic the Hedgehog: The IDW Art Collection (Editor)

Announcements: I might be done for the year? If you'd like to have me on your podcast, Twitch stream, at your convention, signing at your store, talking to your students, whatever, feel free to hit me up, but I don't think I have anything else public for the rest of the year, though knowing us, Becca and I will probably a local market or something. 

Wanna support me? Visit my webstore, the previously linked Patreon or Kofi, or my eBay. And you can always visit Becca's portfolio/shop/Patreon/Twitch streams too. Streams will be returning soon. Been having technical difficulties of late. 

And of course, things are bad. Call for a ceasefire and urge your reps to stop the Palestinian genocide. Fight back against whatever terrible policies are currently up in your local or national area--from trying to ban books to criminalizing transness to further criminalizing homelessness to whatever. Support SAG-AFTRA as they're still on strike, and support all the other strikes and union actions happening across the country and across the world. Just be kind to people. 

Pic of the Week: It's my favorite green heroes, the Warrior Mans! 

[wereah]

From the artist side of things:

Chimera Academy has almost 3gb in it's folder, as of right now. 1 gb of that is stuff you're also probably never going to see.

Stuff that isn't 'good' or 'interesting' enough to be posted to social media, but I need to draw the comic. Whether that's my pathetic excuses for character sheets ( often just a colored sketch and only the twins and the Satyr professors got turnarounds ) to the various assets that I've created to help populate the world.

( e.g. saved crowds, backgrounds encase I need them again, any created textures or designs for characters/etc. )

And not make my hand wanna fall off haha

That doesn't even calculate the 3D reference files that I've made!

There are rooms and rooms of things I've put together in Blender and Daz3D so that the school could have some sense of space. And CONSISTENCY i don't know her some of them I might not even use, because Kara and I have Very Different Ideas about the architecture of this place. Not to mention I only have a vague idea of the kinds of environments she's looking for.

Here's one I have handy: ( look familiar? 🡹 yes the candelabras were free hand because I'm an idiot )

This is the hallway outside of the auditorium that you can see here .

It's where the majority of where Chapter 1: Fast Friends ( starting VERY soon! ) happens. It branches off into a circular common area where the second half takes place.

Having said all of that: if you're an aspiring webcomic artist? You don't need to do any of the stuff I've mentioned here. And you DEFINITELY don't need it to get started! I didn't do ANY of it before we started the twins! After all, we were only going to do what became the twins intro, lol

It's stuff that I've gathered along the way, to make my life easier.

Wait. What was I was writing about? This is why I don't write things. Anyway, here's a WIP of the chapter 1 cover:

( but seriously. I think I had a point . . .? Oh well. *goes back to inking* )

Day 560

As I celebrate finally finishing all of the Chimera student profiles (until the new batch of first years arrive) I have to stop and wonder a bit. One of the things I had to do when Chimera Academy migrated from a D&D campaign to a comic was expand on all of the students.

Which is a weird thing to do from an outsider’s perspective because most of that information no one is going to see except me and Were-Ah.

This might be why the writing exercise, morning papers, is a popular one among writers, because it’s supposed to help writers get used to the idea that most of their writing is never going to see the light of day.

That might sound horrifying to a lot of people, especially in a society where the idea of not having anything to show for your hard work is considered a failure.

The thing though, that is the reality of worldbuilding. You as the reader do not need to know explicitly all the motivations that have brought every student to Chimera Academy, or the teachers that have decided to become staff there. I however, do, because if I do my job right that will inform me on how these individuals will interact with the main characters and the world around them. Were-Ah needs to know where these students come from, because it’ll inform her of the kind of clothes they wear or colours they prefer.

And as much as I love a lot of these little characters, I’m not going to be able to introduce you to all of them. 

Unless I write a lot of shorts, which is a possibility… because sometimes I still need help in figuring out these characters.

[mick3yz]

So uh the Clone High continuation is.. decent?? Some ppl are losing their shit bcs Gandhi is gone but they need to move ahead and accept what they have for now.

Episode one was kinda stale but Episode two was pretty decent actually, my main issue is that it is super obvious that the writers only vaguely know stuff about modern teen culture (which is fine and pretty common in shows honestly so idrc)

Im not the biggest fan of the new character designs, they feel way too flashy and bright compared to all the other original and background characters in the show (Frida’s design is kinda nice though)

HOWEVER

The one new character that I genuinely really like is Topher Bus cause he’s like one of those guys who spends 10hrs straight on twitter arguing with people

I fucking hate him. he’s amazing. I want to punt him. I want to put him in a blender

Also im just hyped to see where the next few episodes go, I genuinely want the Joanfk pairing to stay together but theres a low chance of that happening

[herroyalbubbliness]

MINE

Family...

Photo Credit: IG @netflixgeeked

Goes back to what I always say, family by blood is overrated. Whoever is putting in the work, loving, caring about one is who I call family blood related or not. Ciri's father is trash. Yennefer's stepfather was trash. Geralt's mother, trash too. We don't know a lot about Jaskier's background but he has found a family too, they all have.

One thing I love about Geralt and Yennefer is they have this weird kind of trust but at the same time are fully aware of what the other is capable of. I call them the perfect ying-yang. They are not blinded by love. Their dynamic is one I enjoy and I'm particularly invested in.

The way Yennefer's face lights up at the unicorn scene as she says I'm a beacon of purity, really warmed my heart. It was like the world stood still for a moment. Her smile was soft, genuine, innocent, so bright it could light up a room, immaculately beautiful, and that split second of sheer joy and happiness, that comes from deep within before the guilt of what she was about to do crept right back. It was one of those moments you forget all the troubles you have been in and the ones about to come.

When Ciri asked Yennefer about Geralt and she goes on about longing, regret, hope, and fear, and Ciri is just like so you love him too.

Lilac and Gooseberries

Yennefer: How is this possible

Geralt: I don't care

When Geralt addressed her as dear friend, I laughed so much. And then he had the nerve to call Istredd her other dear friend, it was hilarious.

I think I got a bit of shyness as he introduced Yennefer to Ciri which was cute because Geralt is anything but shy.

It also reminded me of a scene in Killing Eve when Konstantin (also played by Kim Bodnia) was hitting the blender, saying all old friends together, sarcastically of course! Haha!

I loved how Ciri and Yennefer were introduced to each other, I think it was just perfect in explaining who exactly she was and what she meant to Geralt without words said.

Of course, she cared about her power. In such a violent world, there is no convenient time to lose one's powers at all.

I think it was interesting to see Yennefer try to cope without her powers not just in survival, but also in what it meant to her essence. And in the final moment as she slashed her wrists, even if she had died, she would have been satisfied because she had finally filled the void of a child with Ciri.

Yennefer is loyal to herself and the people she loves and that's what I love most about her. She understands the dynamics in the sense of how the different authorities are only out to use one until they are not of use anymore.

"Betrayal doesn't depend on how or how much you love someone. It depends on the magnitude of the dilemma before you."- Berlin in Money Heist

I do not condone Yennefer's intentions to sacrifice Ciri but I understood it.

Yennefer struggles with the feeling of not being enough which stems from her childhood trauma, abuse. Someone also pointed out the parallel between slashing her wrists in season one and season two and that broke my heart.

Four marks

I dreamed of becoming important to someone someday.

This is a woman who had given up on legacy, the hope of having a baby, life in the finale of season one. And even said if she died, that will be okay as she had lived multiple lifetimes to which Tissaia said her power could be her legacy.

Except she didn't die, and the one thing she had, chaos, which she described as her sight and a life force that makes one feel alive was gone too.

Desperation and the need to feel.

Now one may ask, but Ciri is a child, Geralt's for that matter and promising legacy, so why do it?

Out of the three women, she held out the longest.

I find it interesting how Voleth Meir manipulates them using their pain and desires against them, telling them it is what they deserve. Showing Yennefer, not just her trauma but also painting a life she desired (with Geralt and the baby) only to watch it burn and disappear in smoke, using them to make fun of her. The sick manipulation makes the psychological torture of it all heartbreaking.

Three women that have been put down many times, Francesca as an elf, you can imagine. Fringilla is abused as a mage in training, tossed from one king to another as we know how unstable the leadership of Nilfgaard is. And Yennefer, abused by her own family, almost killed by the king she served covering up one atrocity to the other and the wrongs go on and on. So it's not entirely surprising that when a shiny gold-plated promise of power is presented whether that is the live birth of a pure elf or to finally have true power and not just be seen as timid or to have one's chaos back.

Geralt: Nowhere is safe now. You can't run from the world. You can't hide from it. But you can find power and purpose. A chance to survive the horror.

We see how she stumbled in the dark (without her chaos). I felt her painful scream in this scene, juxtaposed with Geralt's monologue to Ciri about finding purpose as we see her struggle in opening a portal, no way forward in sight.

But she tried, knowing how selfish Yennefer can be, she held on. But, in the end, her pain, desperation, and selfishness got the better of her.

Jaskier: Oh, no, well, obviously we'll kill her. We'll definitely kill her. I just haven't found a good enough jabbing stick yet. But what if she's changed too? People do stupid things when they think they're trapped in a corner, Geralt. And they say stupid things. That's what friends do. They come back.

And Jaskier was right because, at the dying minute, she didn't go through with it. I think she had been fighting the internal battle the moment she knew Ciri was his child surprise.

Her facial expression in that split second showed, she realized this was going to be harder than she thought. She had her doubts. She kept avoiding Geralt's eyes when he asked certain questions and drank from her cup because she was nervous and lying. The moment she knew who Ciri was to Geralt, she knew this was going to be harder than she thought.

In talking to Ciri and helping her channel her power, she found something greater than her power, purpose. And she faced her fears of the possibility of never regaining her chaos or being able to feel and finally won her internal battle when she didn't go through it.

She realized everything she ever went through was for a reason and so she could teach someone who will not have to walk the path alone as she did. I think this growth was necessary for herself and also for the role she was going to step into, as a mother figure.

Geralt was very justified in his anger and MINE, remains one of my favorite lines. The anger, protection of his daughter and I think at this point, he had fully accepted/realized that he was a father to Ciri just as Ciri had admitted that he was the father she never had.

The betrayal wasn't just in the fact that she intended to sacrifice Ciri, but in that she knew who and what she meant to him and she still went along with it anyway.

In season three, I expect some work especially from Yennefer in rebuilding the trust she has broken...

[asagis-meta]

Qilin And Failing At The Last Moment

Up until the last few minutes of the episode, Qilin was on track to be one of my favorite MLB episodes ever

The animation wasn’t great but the pacing was really good and you get a spotlight on someone who we usually only see in the background, showing also that maybe Marinette’s ladybug vision is a family trait (actually not a big fan of how much the show is using this now-a-days but it works more for Sabine, I think, than most others) and how close she and her mom are, and showing Marinette’s struggles to maintain her life impact so much more than just school work and socializing- and that there’s atleast One (1) adult in Paris who recognizes this situation as being wrong and unfair to Ladybug and Chat- something that we kind of really needed considering how many adults are just pure shit in this show, and the clarity of the situation being wrong doubled with how quickly some jackass Karen is to jump to a POC being “aggressive” just because they’re not being 10000% apologetic over something that isn’t even their fault to begin with was done well in my personal opinion coupled with how quick the police were to fold to someone being irritating even though they KNEW what the truth was, all really heart breaking, Chat and Marinette having a GUN were both huge highlights and Sabine breaking her akumatization was GREAT

...And then in the last possible moment it erased all of this and put the message in a blender

I’m not the person to say if MLB should or shouldn’t be tackling police violence- not only given that I’m white but also that I’m definitely not a film or production expert of any kind so tackling the subject of “Does this specific show have the necessary format/timing/age of audience/tools at their disposal to do this well?” isn’t within my realm of possibilities either

But good Christ if they’re going to try to tackle it then they atleast shouldn’t completely trash the message in the process

If they should or shouldn’t regardless- they did, and they screwed it up

I’ve gone from loving this episode to honestly probably not ever re-watching it just because the ending pisses me off so much

I really thought a few times that Ladybug or Chat were going to bring up racial tension, although probably Chat given that 1. Ladybug would have to toe a thin line if she was going to point out the racism, especially if she were to imply or outright say that she was Chinese/half-Chinese as that risks her identity to even imply it (just out of the cast we have, that narrows the feild of her identity wildly) and 2. It’s not like this would be the first time that the White Boy Who Has Nothing To Do With This Message would get the opportunity to put his foot in the ring anyway.... Kung Food and from a charector perspective, not only is Chat much more impulsive than Ladybug, but Adrien is that special blend of “really wanting to help” and “tone deaf” that I don’t have a hard time picturing him bringing this up and forcing the cops to try and backtrack, meanwile only making Ladybug more upset at them (and depending on how well or poorly he handles it, more upset in general, or even more fond of Chat for trying, though I don’t think we would have seen much of the latter) but I certainly didn’t expect it and if this would have made things better or worse isn’t really my place to decide, but my point in bringing this up is that even without directly pointing it out, it was really clear where the “dispute” was coming from, especially with so many details in the episode focusing on Sabine being Chinese, so to then have Marinette offer to pay the fine is just..... it makes me so physically uncomfortable???? Especially considering that ultimately IT IS STILL SABINE PAYING IT

I get the idea being “Marinette is responsible but doesn’t have her life together yet so still needs her mom” and that is fine, I think the flowers, though, would have driven that point home enough without sledge-hammering the entire point of the episode out of orbit

I wish Sabine would have either said something like “No, that would be unfair” or “We already paid for our ticket though, so that isn’t right”, or literally anything to detour the situation, as I get that Marinette has this Thing forced by the writers where she has to take the blame for things that aren’t her fault- and I can understand how the episode is trying to frame this as being Marinette’s fault even though it’s quite clearly the fault of the racists, so one line from Sabine could have upheld that and still reinforced that she did nothing wrong to begin with

And seriously? They were ready to cancel the fine after getting proof that Sabine did nothing wrong but Marinette said “nah we were still in the wrong so I’ll pay it”??? It’s gotta be one of the most absurd decisions in this show, it’s not “responsible”- it would be if for some reason the fine had stuck, like if Marinette had forgotten to get a ticket and taken the bus without one- but these circumstances are just so...... heinous???

To say nothing of the fact that everything is meant to be ok at the end after Roger and the ticket douchebag were so aggressive and pretty clearly racially profiled Sabine, I know with MLB’s general tone it was always going to end with “Everything is fine :) “ but I really wish there had been some kind of consequence for those assholes at the end, even if it was just Ladybug mentioning that this kind of shit is why she’s constantly having to save the city and that as long as the police are doing this shit they’re forcing vigilantes like her to step in- I’m sure it wouldn’t have happened but I can dream

God I just really can’t get over how badly they screwed things up at the very end like that, it’s like someone in the MLB team Astruc is purposely trying to sabotage the show everytime it tries to do something good

Anyway, this is why MLB should belong to fic writers

[northwest-cryptid]

Very well, then allow me to explain...

For those who are not aware, my partner and I have started recreating, 3D printing, and painting models from Mabinogi. Primarily because we're both huge fans of the game and we love to collect merch, we have everything from the mangas to the magazines, to even a few figures and such.

So you can imagine that we're kind of sad there isn't better figure merch, most of what they have is acrylics which is fine but it's not exactly what we are looking for, now given my background in 3D modeling that comes from my engineering degree and my partner having a lot of computer and tech know-how as well as generally being one of those DIY crafts people; we put our skills together, bought a couple 3D printers, and got to work making some of our own Mabinogi models.

It's been a sort of rocky development process, some models print just fine, they come out really nicely and are great! For example check out these little guys we made around Halloween,

These of course being the Trick, and Treat Pumpkin pets

Then you have the Nine Tail Fox pet:

So this might be leading you to wonder where the goddess comes in...

See, we wanted to make something that was undeniably Mabinogi, sure the pets are fantastic, and anyone who knows them from the game will quickly pick up on what they're supposed to be, we even managed to make Far Darrigs; but we wanted something more classic. So we decided we were going to make the goddess statue you always see when going into dungeons!

This... was harder than it seemed.

The goddess part of the goddess statue had it's own problems, but was ultimately an easier print; so most of the hardship here came from getting things right in Blender.

She came out fine but there were a ton of supports that just made the small details look bad. A lot of adjustment needed to be made but she was printing successfully! On the other hand, the base was failing; repeatedly.

Now normally with failed prints there's a reason for it, but looking over it the print never seemed to fail in the same spot twice, more often than not just failing in random spots, we'd reinforce that area and print again only to find it didn't work and also something else broke.

Finally we figure it out and got it to print nicely, eventually, after my partner spent a lot of time sanding and painting it, we were actually happy with the end result.

It's far from perfect mind you, but considering everything we went through to make it, I'd argue it's pretty good.

We have a ton of these failed prints just kind of... around the house now

So now I'm thinking "hey if we can make a goddess statue, can we make the goddess?" Morrighan is one of my favorite characters seeing as how I've been playing since the beta and I love a woman who can kick my ass. So obviously I want a Morrighan figure! I figure this should be a pretty simple print, albeit the amount of time I spent in Blender trying desperately to get things to a printable state was... a lot.

Like I have a ton of videos of just, updates on how I was doing because it took so long to get things right; I mean seriously look at this mess.

Now we've finally gotten to the moment of truth, here we can see I have the goddess loaded into the printing program, I was recording an update because I was going off about how it wasn't making proper supports and I do love how you can clearly see another 3 failed attempts at the goddess statue on the desk in front of the monitor here:

But really quick, look at the model; just... take a good look at it. Notice how she uh, has hair? Like she CLEARLY has hair! Okay so we've all noted that she has hair... this is going to be very important in a second because...

This picture is infamous among my friends. Her hair is just GONE, it never printed; I checked the entire print bed, I did a full clean of the whole system to check for any floating parts that got disconnected, she even had supports IN her head to connect her hair, but no! No! No hair for the goddess! This is when the memes happened:

For those who don't play the game, if you clear the first generation mainline quests you get a title of [player name] Who Saved The Goddess, so my friends have taken to calling me Cryptid, who Shaved the Goddess.

I'm currently working on figuring out how to 3D print models in interchangeable parts so I can print individual clothing pieces and weapons that could be put onto a Mabinogi figure like how people build gundam kits and such, basically allowing for fully customizable Mabinogi figures of players that are likely to be somewhere between 6 inches to a foot tall... but first I need to figure out how to print the goddess with hair intact.

If you meant the frog post, then it's important to note that the current event has to do with us raising frogs; an animal that does not exist in Erinn and is technically an invasive species. I have a lot of thoughts on this because we literally never see frogs outside of clothing items and specifically one potion from the Blaanid questline that contains frog legs, that she has to give you specifically because frogs DO NOT EXIST IN ERINN.

I love how many people are discovering my absolute Mabinogi Brain Rot through like, the frog post and not from the time I shaved the goddess.

Which is probably a good thing.

[babyjamiebarnes]

Build-A-Bear

Part Two

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Peter Parker (platonic), background MCU characters

Warnings: [chapter] language; [series] language, smut, violence

Summary: The only people who knew she was actually a Stark were her dad, her step-mom Pepper, and her “uncles” Happy and Rhodey. A promotion within Stark Industries takes her from an already-sought after position in the Weapons Anaylsis Unit straight to the Avengers as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist... which means her dad is her new boss. There’s only one rule at work: no fraternizing with coworkers. There’s one more rule at home: no dating any Avengers. So what is she supposed to do when a grumpy super soldier becomes not-so-grumpy around her? At 25, do her dad’s rules still apply? Or is her entire livelihood at risk?

Author’s Note: This one was gonna be super short but I felt bad so it’s super long instead lol. I originally planned on posting shorter chapters more frequently so it might be closer to 3-4 days between parts now that I’m posting longer chapters. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! I’ve never done a tag list before so I’m going to keep the limit pretty small. And if you want, you can buy me a coffee! ❣️

(Part One)

Tags: @kennedywxlsh

About an hour later, a light knock on the lab door drew your eyes from your work to Bucky as he walked in. Peter’s eyes darted up but immediately looked back down when he realized the visitor was for you.

“Hey Bucky,” you smiled. He smiled back and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“So… you wanted to see my arm?” he said, more as a question than a reminder.

“Yeah, if you could sit right here, that’d be perfect.”

He did as you asked and took a seat on a lab chair, letting you lean across the lab table toward him so you could fiddle with his prosthetic arm. You quickly grabbed your magnifying glasses, flipping the magnifiers up so you could examine him at face value first.

After a few minutes of looking at the outer plating and sensory receptors, you pulled away.

“Can you feel with this arm?” you asked.

“I can feel pressure but I can’t actually feel with it.” You gave him a confused look, only sort of piecing together what he meant. As he fumbled over his words to explain again, you put your glasses to the side, running around to Bucky’s side again to stand in front of him.

“Okay, this might be weird but it’ll really help me. Hold your hands out, palms up.” He did as you said. “I’m going to do the same thing to both arms and then I want you to show me, using just your right arm, how it felt on each one, okay?”

Bucky nodded and watched as your fingertips gently glided over his forearms, leaving goosebumps in your wake. The second time, you brushed your palms against his skin, as if you were brushing away crumbs. The final time, you scratched your nails down his right arm, making him take in a sharp breath as he watched the skin of his arm turn a pale pink. His left arm, however, kept catching your fingernails between the plates so you resorted to scratching across instead of down.

“Okay, now show me.” You flipped both of your arms over, palm up.

Using just his flesh arm on your right arm, he grazed his fingertips over your skin, admittedly sending a shiver down your spine. You didn’t even consider how weak that touch usually makes you, especially from someone who looks like that. And you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t find him attractive before you even graduated college. You and your roommates were guilty of many nights of fuck-marry-fight with the Avengers as your victims.

When your gaze moved up to meet his, he brushed his hand over your arm, then delicately scratched his nails down your arm.

If it hadn’t been for the slight hum of machinery across the room, you’re sure Bucky would’ve heard your heart beating out of your chest.

Dad would literally kill me if he knew the thoughts going through my head right now, you thought.

“Okay,” you started, pausing briefly to clear your throat. “What about what your left arm feels?”

This one made him furrow his brows, either in concentration or confusion. He pushed his fingertips against your skin harder than before and moved them down your arm. He used more pressure again with the second movement, then went back to heavy fingertip pressure for the scratches.

“Hm,” you said simply, letting your arms drop to your sides again. “So you feel the weight of the touch but not the sensation that comes with it?” The confusion in his eyes made you rephrase. “So this on your right arm —“ you ran your fingers down his flesh arm again, “gives you goosebumps, but this on your metal arm —“ you repeated on the left, “is just a weight, no shiverbugs?”

“Shiverbugs?” he repeated with a barely noticeable smile.

“Goosebumps! Sorry. Shiverbugs is something my grandma used to say. Sometimes I slip into the family slang,” you chuckled. Bucky’s smile grew a bit at the sound of your laugh.

“Yeah, I only feel that on the right arm. No shiverbugs with the left.”

You jokingly scrunched your nose at him before returning to your previous seat. He stood there as you scribbled down notes on how he feels things and your immediate thoughts on how to make it more real for him.

“Is there anything you want done to your arm?”

Bucky seemed slightly taken aback at the question, but quickly steeled his expression. “I know Tony wanted to make it quieter,” he said.

You pushed your glasses up your nose and leaned your elbows on the table between you. You could tell he was still pretty reserved, either because you were new and he didn’t feel comfortable around you, or because he didn’t feel comfortable in the tower as a whole yet.

“I know what Tony wants,” you said gently. “What do you want?”

He frowned at this, turning his eyes to the floor as he thought. After a beat, he finally said, “I just want it to feel real again.”

And you could’ve cried right then and there. You knew the story of the Winter Soldier. You had heard what Bucky had been through. You couldn’t imagine going through anything close to what he experienced, and you’d be damned if you let him down.

But you couldn’t cry in front of him on your first day, so you smiled at him softly.

“That’s not an easy feat but I’ll do what I can, Barnes.”

He smiled briefly before frowning again. That frown seemed to be his default expression.

“Is there anything else you need?” he asked.

“Not right now. Thanks for helping me out,” you replied. He just nodded before walking out. Your eyes stayed on the door for an extra couple seconds before you spun around on your seat and scurried across the room to plop down next to Peter, who was packing his stuff to head home for the day.

“Hey, Boy Wonder, question.” Peter looked at you with raised eyebrows. Nicknaming ran in the family. “Want to use that biomolecular engineering and help me with something?”

•••

Nearly every day when you stopped in the kitchen for lunch, you’d run into Bucky. Sometimes he’d be with Sam, sometimes Steve, sometimes on his own. But almost every single day, he’d be in the common room chatting or the kitchen eating. For the first couple weeks, he was a little tense when you were around. You’d hear him and Sam bickering as you approached, just to see him quiet down once you entered the room. It was a bit disheartening at first, but when it was just the two of you, he always engaged.

You’d called him into the lab a couple times to look over his arm again, but you always felt bad taking him away from whatever training or cases he was working on. The digital renderings were always there, and you spent plenty of time digging into those and running simulations of the different ways you could muffle the wiring. And it’s a good thing you ran the simulations, because a couple of them would’ve fried his whole arm and then some.

Peter was a great help too. When he wasn’t working on his own projects, he’d poke his nose into your work and throw out recommendations. Robotics may have been your specialty, but the kid knew his stuff. He’s the only reason you finally figured out the perfect combo to quiet Bucky’s arm without knocking him out.

Nearly four weeks after your first day — and a week after Peter went back to campus, leaving you alone in the lab — you cornered Bucky in the communal kitchen again and turned on your classic Stark charm.

“Hey Bucky,” you said sweetly, leaning over the counter across from him while he tossed fruit into a blender.

“Hey [Y/N].”

You’d grown a bit more comfortable with each other, mainly from when you two were left alone. He still was a bit quieter with one of his friends around, but he was growing more talkative in general. You felt comfortable tossing nicknames at him; he felt comfortable saying “hey” instead of “hi” and once gave you your own nickname. Since you called him Bucky Bear a time or two, he called you Build A Bear. He almost looked panicked when it slipped, but your initial shock was quickly followed by giggles, easing the tension in his shoulders. But the feeling that name sent to your stomach felt more like bats than butterflies. He even joked with you now.

“So I’ve been looking at the blueprints we have for your arm and I was wondering — I know this is a lot to ask — could I maybe spend some more time digging around in your arm?” You flashed him a hopeful smile, even propping your chin on your hand to look cuter.

Before he answered, he put the lid on the blender and started it, staring at you blankly as the sound filled the entire room. You just sat there, continuing to smile at him. And the more you fluttered your lashes while he let the blender run, the more you could see his frown-y facade start to crack.

He finally broke into a smile when he shut the machine off.

“You don’t have to ask, [Y/N]. I mainly train in the mornings so my afternoons are free. As long as I’m here, you can call me in whenever.”

You jumped up and ran around the counter, giving him an unexpected hug, made obvious by the way he tensed up. You elected to ignore it.

“You’re the best, Bucky Bear.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said, gently pulling away from you to pour his smoothie into two glasses. “I just have one stipulation.” You looked up at him expectantly. “Take the rest of this? I, uh, I made a bit too much.”

With a laugh, you grabbed the nearly full glass and led him down the halls to your lab. Since Peter was only coming back one weekend a month, you had kind of taken over the lab, adding some color to make your workspace a little less drab. Your guilty pleasures playlist — aka your favorite middle school dance songs — played quietly over the speakers as you directed Bucky to sit down.

Getting into his arm wasn’t the easiest task. You had to pry off the opening of each individual outer plate, then unscrew — yes, with a screwdriver — the covering on the inner plates to actually see the wiring inside. Fortunately, Bucky brought his phone with him so he could occupy himself and let you focus. You were a bit surprised at how easily he understood modern technology, but he wasn’t quite the old man Steve was when it came to the changing times.

After spending a solid 10 minutes leaning over the lab table to open Bucky’s arm, you poked around inside for a while, jotting down notes as you went. Shuri had sent Tony quite a few notes for you to reference, but seeing everything firsthand and taking your own notes always helped.

Unfortunately, Bucky had two removable sections in his arm: one on his forearm, one in his bicep.

“Scale of one to ten, how comfy does the table look?” you asked.

Bucky looked up from his phone and gave you a confused look. “Uh, maybe a two? Why?”

“Well, Buckaroo, I need to get to the top plate too so you’ll have to either hold your arm up for me to get to it or lie down somewhere.”

He glanced back down at the table, then looked at you in confusion as he voiced his own suggestion. “What about the couch in the common room?”

You tapped your nose and pointed at him with a smile, gathering your supplies and the rest of Bucky’s arm. He led the way, lying flat on the couch and raising his left arm over his head.

“Is it okay if I play more music out here?” you asked as you unloaded everything.

“Sure. I should probably catch up on modern music anyway,” he said with a soft smile. You had Friday play your guilty pleasures playlist again while you got to work on opening up the top of Bucky’s arm.

You’d been poking around for almost 20 minutes when the silence was broken.

“Music nowadays is so sexual,” Bucky said suddenly.

“Hm. What makes you say that?” you asked, only half paying attention as you drew up more stream-of-consciousness notes on the coffee table beside you.

“This song.” You paused and immediately recognized the beat for “Candy Shop” by 50 Cent.

“Oh come on, as if you didn’t have any inappropriate songs in the ‘40s,” you scoffed.

“Of course we did but it was never this blatant! We were more subtle back then,” Bucky defended.

“Bro,” you deadpan. “If you think ‘Candy Shop’ is obvious, you have way more catching up to do. Friday, play ‘WAP’ by Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion.”

You watched Bucky react as the song started. Even the initial “there’s some whores in this house” made his eyes go wide. At “wet ass pussy make that pull out game weak,” he turned to you, beet red in the face.

“What kind of music do you listen to?!”

“This is a popular song!” you laughed. “We have some obviously sexual songs that aren’t quite as… vulgar too. Friday, play ‘T-Shirt’ by Thomas Rhett.”

Bucky eyed you cautiously this time, not quite sure if you were actually playing a more censored song. He visibly relaxed when he heard the first lyrics, “Get off of work and we meet down at our spot. We got a patio with a view of a parking lot.”

“See, this is already so much better.”

“Don’t act so innocent,” you smirked, rolling your eyes at him.

“That sounds like an accusation,” Bucky laughed.

“Oh, it is.”

“Yeah? What’s that supposed to mean?” He sat up to face you directly, one leg landing on each side of your body sitting on the floor. His posture combined with his playful conversation had you wondering where this confidence came from. Because you definitely liked it.

“Come on,” you scoffed. “You can’t convince me a face like that,” you pointed directly at him to emphasize your point, “wasn’t making panties drop left and right back in the day.”

He shook his head and laughed to himself, leaning back on the couch, yet made no move to deny your accusation.

“Who would’ve known my sweet little Bucky Bear was a player?” you joked.

“Oh, like you’re not the same way, Build A Bear.”

“Excuse me?!” you squealed. “I’ll have you know I’m a good little Christian girl and I’m saving myself for marriage,” you said with a grin, maneuvering from sitting on your butt to kneeling and clasping your hands together like you were praying.

“You’re a lot of things, [Y/N]. A good liar is not one of those things,” Bucky smirked.

Your mouth fell agape. You liked this confident, playful side of him. You’d only seen glimpses until now.

“What’s your number?” you asked, dropping your hands to your sides.

“Uhh… My phone number?”

“No, your sexual body count,” you laughed, making sure to clarify; former assassins probably have a different interpretation of ‘body count.’ “How many people have you slept with?”

You knew it was a personal question but given the topic of conversation and casual tone you’d both taken on, it didn’t seem totally out of bounds.

Bucky thought for a second, slowly counting on his fingers. Your eyes watched as the slender metal digits flicked up: one, two, three... “Four.”

“Yeah, okay,” you scoffed.

“Why is that so hard to believe?” Bucky said with a laugh.

“Because that’s my body count.”

“Doll, I took plenty of dames out on the town, but I’d leave the night with a kiss and nothing else,” he said, that old school Brooklyn lilt sneaking up on him.

You sighed and shook your head, still not believing him but choosing to let it go for now.

“Give me your arm,” you said, holding your hand out. Bucky let his arm drop into your hand while you picked up a microchip with a needle-thin pair of tweezers. “This will adhere to the vibranium and essentially act like a pillow to muffle the sounds of your arm. So it’ll still make noise — I can’t just get rid of all sound — but it’ll be notably quieter.”

You tucked the chip under the inner plating of Bucky’s arm, watching as it sparked over the metal to let you both know it was working.

“Now lie back down so I can put you back together, Humpty Dumpty,” you said.

Bucky let out a quiet chuckle, but leaned back on the couch with his left arm over his head. After 15 minutes of angling the plating just right so it would fit back together, you climbed off the couch, distancing yourself from Bucky for the first time in nearly four hours.

“Anything else I can help the mad scientist with today?” Bucky asked. He had moved to rest his elbows on his knees, looking up at you from his spot on the sofa.

You checked your watch to see how much time you had left in your workday. 4:15. Forty-five minutes until you can clock out for the weekend. Not quite close enough to bullshit through some dumb side project so you don’t get too invested. But there’s one thing you wanted to check out to improve the feeling in Bucky’s arm.

“Can you take your shirt off?” you asked plainly.

Bucky’s eyes went wide for half a second before he slipped back into his playful demeanor. “Shouldn’t you take me on a date first?”

“Shut up,” you giggled. You giggled. “I just want to see how the arm is connected to your torso.”

Without pause, Bucky leaned forward, grabbed the back of his shirt, and tugged it over his head to let it fall to the floor. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t consider what he’d look like underneath his clothing, so it took you a second to gather your bearings again. You couldn’t help yourself. How could you not admire the slender lines of his collarbones, the thick layer of muscle covering his chest, the distinct ridges on his abdomen speckled with scars, the very tip of what you could only assume were two tantalizing depressions leading right to —

“Like what you see, doll?” he smirked.

Your eyes met his, reluctantly pulling away from what you knew would be the source of your dreams tonight.

“Four, my ass,” you mumbled in fake annoyance, kneeling between his thighs again to get a better look at him. Your fingertips trailed along the smooth line of scarred skin bordering the harsh metal of his arm. It took all your willpower to focus on work instead of the heat his body was radiating being so close to each other. “Was this how, you know, they put your arm on?”

Bucky shook his head, his expression growing sullen at the indirect mention of his tormentors. “They just kind of dug away at it. The Wakandans actually cut away a bit more of my skin to allow for healthier healing.”

You could tell it was carefully done, judging by the faint discoloring and thin ridge alongside the metal, as opposed to angry red lines that protruded out like the photos Shuri sent.

“Does this area hurt?” You pressed your hand flat to the scar; Bucky had to try to reign in his heartbeat. You had leaned in close to see his arm, leaving you close enough for him to just dip his head down and —

“What’s going on here?”

Both of you whipped your heads to the side to see a very confused — and slightly annoyed — Tony standing in the entrance to the common room, clearly just passing by and stumbling on a somewhat compromising situation: his daughter on her knees between a shirtless Winter Soldier’s thighs.

Without taking your eyes off your father, you reached around on the coffee table and grabbed your notebook.

��Research! I promise!”

“Research that couldn’t happen in your designated lab?” You could tell there was so much more he wanted to say, but had to keep it to himself for now to avoid telling Bucky who you really were.

“I had to open the compartment in his tricep area and didn’t want to make him lie down on the lab tables for three hours.” The accusatory glare from your dad made you shrink into yourself, your voice growing quieter as you spoke. Fridays were family dinner night, and you already knew you wouldn’t hear the end of this.

“Uh-huh,” he said slowly, still eyeing you and Bucky suspiciously. “And why did he need to be half naked for that?”

“Da — Tony,” you said, barely catching yourself. “I mean, Mr. Stark. I was examining the scar tissue and spinal connection to determine how to enhance the sensory receptors currently embedded in the vibranium.”

Tony’s eyes flitted between you and Bucky. Your eyes were wide, clearly nervous as he grilled you. Bucky, on the other hand, was flushed pink and leaning a little too close for Tony’s comfort.

“Keep this PG from now on, okay? And no working outside of the lab. This is Stark Tower, not Bezos Tower. We’re not gonna work you to the bone.” He started to walk away before stepping back and adding, “No fraternizing with coworkers, remember?”

With a quick nod, you stood abruptly and gathered your things to take it back to your lab for the night. Bucky was quick to slip his shirt back on and followed you with his head down to avoid the burning gaze of your father — or as far as he knew, his boss.

You didn’t expect Bucky to go back to your lab with you, but part of you was glad he did. Being around him brought you a sense of calm and comfort, even after what just happened. If he had just walked away, you’d assume the worst: that an accusation like that was far from what he wanted to hear.

You set all your things back on your table to start putting them away when Bucky shoved his hands into his pockets and cleared his throat.

“Sorry about that,” he said. You spared a quick glance at him, seeing the tension in his shoulders as he chose his words carefully.

“Why?” you asked, genuinely confused on how that situation was somehow his fault.

“Tony… he doesn’t really like me much.”

“Yeah, I know,” you laughed. “But that was way more of a me-problem than a you-problem. We’ll just have to work in here from now on.” You shrugged and went back to putting your tools in their respective drawers.

Bucky still stood right inside the doorway, the door shut behind him so no one outside could hear you two. He rocked back and forth on his feet, trying to force himself to follow through with at least mentioning what he planned on asking you.

“I was actually gonna see if you wanted to get dinner together sometime until Tony gave us that speech,” he chuckled.

You slid the final drawer shut and turned to Bucky. You knew you two were getting closer and you couldn’t deny feeling an attraction to him, but you never expected him to feel that same pull. The thought made you smile back at him while he cracked his knuckles, most likely from nerves. What happened to that fun and flirty attitude he had just a few minutes ago?

Your grandma always said to never date a man who wasn’t nervous about asking you out...

“I’m pretty good at keeping secrets,” you said quietly.

His eyes stopped darting around the room to find your gaze. You stepped closer, taking slow steps as you crossed the room to him until you were toe to toe. He didn’t take his eyes off of you until you held your phone out to him.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” you said with a small smirk.

His lips curled into a small smile as he snatched your phone and entered his number.

“I’ll text you my address. Does tomorrow night work?” you asked, unintentionally biting your lip but not missing the way Bucky’s eyes followed the movement.

“Tomorrow sounds great,” he replied.

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Buck.” You took a bit of a risk and stood on your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek, his face immediately flushing red. Your own cheeks grew warm when you stepped back, tossing Bucky a quick wave as you turned back around and hoping he’d leave before you started screaming.

[insomniamamma]

Late Bloomers: Ezra x F! Reader w/Cee

A/n: Set in the "Liminal" AU in which Ezra becomes his niece, Cee's legal guardian after a car accident kills his brother, Damon, and costs him his arm. Set sometime between "Ferris  Wheels Are For Old People" and "Surf City Goodness." Reader is Ezra's neighbor. Established relationship (sort of, IDK how to tag what they are). For @autumnleaves1991-blog​ and @clydesducktape​ Writer Wednesday.

Warnings: Not a whole lot. Kissing. Touching. A little spicier than I usually go, which isn't saying whole lot. A little language.  Cee, as usual, needs her own warning. Set during the pandemic shut down. Mentions of covid. Also, I feel like 'The Apple' needs it's own warning. I'll link the trailer at the end.

           "You sure you don't want to come with us, Birdie?" Cee sits at their scarred kitchen table, her laptop, textbooks and a pile of papers around her. She frowns.           "I gotta study," she says, "Ms Stewart is really serious about this quiz. She's not grading on a curve this time." Ezra narrows his eyes.           "You have never spent a Saturday night studying in your life," he says. Cee frowns up at him.           "You've never been in Ms. Stewart's physics class," says Cee, "She's a hard ass. Anyway, I'm still pulling an 'A' in her class, but I don't want to fuck up my average."           "Jesus, Cee," Ezra mutters, and you have to smile. She rolls her eyes.           "I know, I know--"           "Don't say 'fuck' at school," they say in unison.           "They're doing double features all summer," says Cee, "I can miss one. I've seen all these movies anyway." She smirks, "I want to hear what you think of 'The Apple.'" Ezra rummages around for his keys and Cee drops you the most exaggerated wink you've ever seen in your life.           "Have fun, guys," she says.

         Covid has nuked most of the things you used to do for fun, restaurants and shows, hell, even the libraries are closed. The only business in town that's thriving is the Star-City Drive In. There haven't been any big studio releases in a while, so they've been doing Fright Night Fridays and Sci-Fi Saturdays. Tonight's double feature is Flash Gordon and The Apple.          "They've got this weird way of operating the concession stand now," says Ezra, "Cause of the pandemic. You've gotta text them your order and I guess they bring it out to you--" Ezra's gotten pretty good at working his phone one-handed, but you can see the frustration clouding his face.          "Let me," you say, loading the menu onto your phone, "Let's get a big popcorn and share it. You okay with the fake butter?"          "Of course I'm okay with the fake butter, what kind of monster do you take me for?"          "How about candy?" You ask, scrolling through, "It's the usual suspects."          "Sno-caps," he says, "How about you?"          "I'm thinking Milk Duds," you say.          "Now that is an excellent way to lose a filling, Sunshine."          "Popcorn and Milk Duds together? Worth the risk," you say and text your order off to the concession stand. It's not quite dark yet, a reel of movie trivia that no one cares about shines ghost pale on the screen. Ez has got the radio tuned to pick up the sound, but there's not much to listen to yet so it's turned down low, background noise with the cicadas and birdsong. The big screen backs up against a farmer's field run wild and a dark stand of trees.          "Switch places with me," says Ezra, and gets out of the truck. He comes around to your side and opens the door for you.          "Why?"          "Indulge me," says Ezra, so you do as he asks and settle in to the driver's side. Ezra's truck has bench seats with vinyl that creaks and cushions that hiss slightly as you move around. There's a tap at the window and you hook your mask over your ears and crank it down, popcorn and candy and you already payed with your phone, but press some rumpled bills into their gloved hands.          "Why'd you want to switch places?" You ask around a mouthful of popcorn.          "Shhh," says Ezra, "The movie's starting."

         Flash Gordon is just as fun as you remember it being, majestic in its absurdity, a big love letter to all the terrible pulp sci-fi movies that came before, the two of you watch and snark and laugh and sing "Aaa-ahhh" whenever someone says Flash's name. We owe it to Queen, you say, and Ezra smiles big the way he does when something's caught him off guard, the way that crinkles his eyes and reveals his dimples, indeed we do. We owe it to Freddie Mercury.          At some point his arm finds it's way around your shoulders and you lean into him.          "So this is why you wanted to switch spots," you murmur. He raises his prosthetic arm, flickering movie light shining on the double hook at the end.          "Can't exactly get handsy with Mr. Claw, now can I?" He grins, "These hooks might be a little chilly."          "And pokey," you say, demonstrating with a dig to his ribs. The end credits are rolling.          "You ever seen this next movie?"          "The Apple?" He says, "No. Some sort of cult-movie thing. Cee made me promise not to IMDB it. She said I should go in with an open mind."          "Oh boy," you laugh.          "Right? Cee's tastes are all over the place. I suspect this will be either amazing  or terrible on a scale that recalibrates our internal gauge of what terrible is."          "You know she set us up, right?"          "Yeah," says Ezra, "Little Bird fancies herself quite the matchmaker."          "She winked at me." Ezra dimples.          "Did she now?"          "She looked like a cartoon," you laugh, "About as subtle as a ton of bricks." Ezra brays laughter and leans against you, squeezes you closer to him at the same time. He is beautiful when he laughs, all dimples and teeth eyes screwed shut in mirth and you take this opportunity to press a kiss against that tender place on his jaw where his beard refuses to grow. Ezra freezes, you feel his body go rigid against yours, and your first thought is to apologize, to pull back, and then he reaches for you, his broad, calloused palm cradling your face, drawing you to him, presses his lips to yours, a soft, reverent kiss that he does not fully withdraw from, his hand now resting on the nape of your neck, forehead pressed to yours, somehow more intimate than a kiss, this closeness, breathing each others exhalations, leaning against each other.          "Cee's not wrong," you say, "We're good together."          "We are, aren't we?" He gives your nape a gentle squeeze, and lets you go. The opening titles of The Apple flicker on screen and the music starts up.

         "Oh, Ezra, what the fuck did we just watch?"          "I don't know if 'watch' is the right word, Sunshine, we did not 'watch' The Apple. The Apple happened to us."          "I don't think I've ever understood Stockholm syndrome until now."          "I have been assaulted," says Ezra, "My civil rights have been violated."          "It's like..." You trail off, "It's like if someone took '1984', 'A Star Is Born' and 'The Rocky Horror Picture Show' and put them in a blender. I'm pretty sure this movie violates the Geneva conventions." Ezra laughs and so do you, leaning in to each other, giggles that become kisses, soft at first, but increasingly hungry, laced with need, your arms twine around his shoulders, his hand lingers at your side, toying with the hem of your shirt.          "S'okay, Ez," you say as he nips at your jaw and then your neck, gentle graze of teeth that makes you shiver, "You can touch me." He kisses you deep, his tongue fever-hot against yours, hand sliding up the soft slope of your belly, cupping your breast, and you arch into his touch--          Tap Tap Tap. And there's a bright light shining through the passenger's side window.          "Oh shit," says Ezra. You frantically yank your shirt back down, heat creeping up your neck, your cheeks, your earlobes flaming.          "Movie's over guys," says the shadowed figure behind the flashlight's glare, "Take it someplace else." You open the door to switch places back with Ezra, the overhead light shows him red faced and horrified.          "I'm sorry, I just--"          "Get us out of here, Ez."

         You stare out into the dark past the window, half-moon shining over fields and trees like a lazy eye. You snort laughter.          "What's so funny?"          "We got caught," you say, "We got caught necking at the drive-in like a couple of teenagers."          "You're laughing because we got caught?"          "I'm laughing because I've never made out with anyone at a drive-in, even when I was a teenager, and I'm laughing cause we got caught. After watching that trash-fire of a movie. We got caught making out over the end credits of 'The Apple'. I feel like we deserve some kind of award." You rest your hand on Ezra's leg, can just pick his smile in the dim lights from the dash. Ezra chuckles.          "I never made out with anyone at the drive in before tonight either," says Ezra.          "Bullshit," you say, and give him a good-natured poke.          "It's true," he says, "For one, I didn't have access to a car. I would've had to borrow Ma's car, and there was no way that was ever going to happen. Also, I was not what the girls back then referred to as 'dating material'. Skinny as a rake with a mouthful of braces and an obvious birthmark? I was like a puppy trying to grow into it's ears and feet, a late bloomer if you will." You move your hand higher up along his thigh and give him a squeeze.          "Better late than never."          "Indeed."

Flash Gordon Trailer

The Apple Trailer

[willow-salix]

TAG MiniBang 2021

Because the combined bad influences of Flyboy and Sonata were at work here we also decided to bend the rules a little and post early...

I was privileged to work with one of my best friends on this project,  @misssquidtracy​ . We went a little rogue (seems to be a theme for us) and shared both parts of the challenge with both of us contributing to the art and the writing. Squiddy provided a beautifully done pallet knife piece as the background for my foreground art and we plotted the story together to ensure that it worked for both of us. We had been looking forward to sharing the writing but unfortunately, due to life constraints on her part she was only able to write a little of the fic but what she did add perfectly compliments the tone and style of my writing. 

Big thanks to @tagminibang ) @godsliltippy​ ) for organising this event.

So, here it is, our offering to the TAG Mini Bang. We hope you enjoy it. 

Ting ting ting

“Not again,” Virgil groaned, hauling himself up the stairs from the kitchen to the lounge. He regretted ever giving Gordon that bell, he really did. Yes his brother had gone through a tough time, yes he had scared the hell out of them when the Chaos Crew had left him at the bottom of the ocean in his mangled craft, yes they were incredibly grateful that he was alive and mostly whole, but if they had to hear that dinging one more time they might possibly murder him themselves. 

“Yes, Gordy, what do you need?” 

“I’m lonely, and I’m hungry, come and sit with me for a bit?”

“Sure-”

“But maybe make me a sandwich first?”

“A sandwich?”��

“Yeah, with extra cheese and a pickle on the side, not too large a pickle but not too small that it’s gone in one bite. I want to taste it, you know, but not be overwhelmed.”

“Sure-”

“And can you get me a drink too? One of my special milkyshakes, you know, with the ice cream and frozen banana in it?”

“Coming right up,” Virgil sighed, heading back down to the kitchen again.

“Gordon still demanding everything and anything?” Scott asked as he jogged in from the poolside. His T-shirt was sticking to his chest and his hair was damp with sweat but he still looked like he could do it all again. Not that they would have time, they were lucky if they got to do any planned exercise at all, usually they were forced to skip it and work out on the job when a call came in.

“Of course he is,” Virgil growled, slapping a slice of cheese on a piece of bread with far more force than necessary.

“What did the cheese do to you?”

“It’s guilty by association.”

“Ah,” Scott said, like that explained things perfectly. 

A few slices of chicken received the same treatment and Scott wondered if the meat had actually been dead when it arrived on the island or if Virgil had simply smacked it into submission so well that the chicken had flown clear into next week and arrived as sandwich filling.

“Can you fix his drink?” Virgil asked.

“Can’t gotta shower this off before Grandma accuses me of stinking up the place again.”

“Any excuse,” Virgil scowled. “It would only take you a second.”

“A second too long, bro, I’m escaping while I can and you’d be wise to do the same,” Scott said, heading for the stairs and freedom.

“How can I escape when Gordon needs help?”

“You’re forgetting one important thing,” Scott told him wisely. 

“I am? And that would be…”

“John’s home.”

Virgil snorted out a laugh. “He’s less likely to do it than you are.”

“No, you're misunderstanding me. If John’s home that means…” Scott let his sentence trail off into silence heavily filled with insinuation.

“Sel’s here,” Virgil finished triumphantly, catching on perfectly.

“Give that Tracy a prize,” Scott grinned, shooting triumphant finger guns his brother’s way as he headed up the stairs. 

And they said that John was the genius in the family, they hadn’t seen Scott at his most devious. Virgil wasted no time in yanking out his phone and texting the witch to come and take over.

“Here’s your sammich, Squidward,” Selene cooed, plonking the plate down on Gordon’s lap while smacking a kiss to his forehead. “Virgil started it but I finished it for you, Brains called him down to his lab with some kind of air filter emergency so I took over. I brought you some of those crisps you like from my private stash too.”

“The cheesy curl ones?” Gordon asked hopefully.

“Yep,” she grinned, waggling a family sized bag of Quavers in his general direction.

“Did you bring my drink?” Gordon asked around a mouthful of chickeny goodness. Say what you wanted about Virgil but he made a damn good sandwich, even if Gordon could taste that this was made with a little less love and a little more impatience than usual.

“No, sorry, did you want one? Virgil didn’t say that. I’ll go get you something, just wait right there.”

"Not like I can leave if the mood takes me," Gordon grumbled as he opened the chip bag. 

She was already gone, only to race back in a few moments later with a can of coke.

“What? What’s wrong, boo?” Selene asked when she saw the pouting look of disappointment on Gordon’s face.

“It was supposed to be one of my special milkyshakes,” he whined.

“Right, got it, my bad!”

She was gone again, taking off to the kitchen where, upon closer inspections, she did indeed find the beginnings of a milkshake. There were two scoops of ice cream already in the blender, melting in the warmth of the room. A half peeled banana sat abandoned on the counter next to a carton of milk. 

“Typical,” she groused as she set about breaking up the banana, pouring the milk and setting it to blend as she tidied the mess away. Once done she poured it into a tall glass, added a straw and a few slices of fresh banana to decorate the edges, just as he liked it, and delivered it to the waiting aquanaut.

“Great, thanks, Sel,” he grinned, handing her his now empty plate and swapping it for the glass. She put the plate on the coffee table and sat on the couch opposite him.

“Anything else I can do for you?”

 “Sit with me and keep me company?” he begged, looking so miserable and pathetic that she couldn’t say no.

“Of course I will.” 

Gordon swung his injured leg up and she moved to sit next to him on the couch, placing a cushion on her lap for him to rest his cast covered foot on.

Gordon settled down with a contented sigh, sucking happily on his straw, the milkshake level in the glass steadily dropping.

“I’m bored,” Gordon bitched five minutes later.

“That peace lasted a long time,” Selene laughed, putting her phone down on the side table to give him her full attention. “What can I do to help? Do you want to watch something or play a game?”

Gordon made a face. “You’re crap at games, Sel.”

One eyebrow rose in disbelief. “I wouldn’t exactly say crap…”

“You tried to play with Alan and died three times in two minutes, lost all your lives and were forced to float along behind him as a ghost for the rest of his turn.”

“Anything is crap when you say it like that,” Selene huffed. 

“Only when it’s true.”

“Tell me then, oh great games master, what do you want to do?”

“Nothing.”

“Then don’t moan you’re bored,” she pointed out.

“I mean there’s nothing to do. No one is around.”

Selene gestured to her chest. “Am I suddenly invisible?”

“No, of course not,” he scoffed. “That would be far too cool, why don’t you have witch powers like that?”

“Because I live in the real world, not a movie?”

“Lame,” he declared, dismissing it.

“Back to the original point that I am, in fact, right here. Therefore your comment that no one is around is redundant.”

“I meant no one I can do anything with.”

“Thin ice, bub, thin ice.”

“I meant like my brothers or someone. Alan is busy revising for his final exams, Virgil’s with Brains and I’ve no idea where Scott is but I think he’s avoiding me, which is just mean if you ask me. I’m a delight.”

“Yeah, you sure are,” she drawled, not sounding too convinced. “You’re also forgetting a brother.”

“Who?”

“John? You know, gorgeous ginger love of my life that’s chilling in his room right this minute? That brother?”

“John? No way.”

“What’s wrong with John?” she squawked indignantly. Her man was the most perfect of people, amazing and fabulous, just all round awesome. Although she might be a tad biased.

Gordon shrugged, scrunching his nose up in a ‘meh’ kinda way that said everything and nothing.

“No, come on, tell me what you meant,” she demanded.

“No offence, Sel, but John’s a bit…”

“A bit what?” she asked, her tone warning him that he was in very dangerous territory.

Gordon, with the grace of an elephant and confidence of a man that knew he was injured and therefore wouldn’t get slapped, plowed on.

“A bit boring.”

“Boring?!” she hollered, her voice travelling to the four corners of the island so effectively that Alan lifted his head, wondering if some distant God was echoing his thoughts as he slogged through his history homework.

“How very dare you!” Selene continued, working up a good glare that Gordon was completely immune to. He simply sipped the last of his milkshake, smacked his lips and raised an eyebrow, daring her to do something about it.

“He is not boring.”

“Matter of opinion,” Gordon shrugged, handing her the glass to put down on the table. 

“Right, that’s it, you can besmirch my fun factor but I will not allow you to do so to my man. That’s a step too far.” She gently, for which he was thankful, shoved his leg off her lap and dragged his hover chair over from its spot beside Virgil’s piano.

“Get the hell in, hoppy, we’re going for a ride.”

-x-

"You deal with him, he's driving me nuts and pissing me off at the same time."

"Me? I'm the very picture of perfection, I could never drive anyone nuts."

John declined to comment on that one for fear of never stopping, he had twenty-four years worth of stories after all. 

“The pissing you off is subjective too,” Gordon finished triumphantly. 

"He's your problem now," Selene announced, shoving Gordon's hover chair further into the room before making her escape, slamming the door shut behind her. 

John closed his eyes, praying for patience. His fiancée was well known for her legendary patience when it came to pampering and mothering his family whenever any of them were sick or injured. She'd spent almost every day with Gordon since his run in with the Chaos Crew and had done so with relentless cheer, for her to have given up now was not a good sign. 

"What did you do?" 

"Nothing!" Gordon protested hotly.

"Are you sure?" 

Gordon averted his gaze, suddenly taking great interest in a dust particle dancing across the shaft of sunlight filtering in through the window, "Yes, I'm sure. I wasn't doing anything. That was part of the problem."

"Ah," there it was. "Is there anything I can do to help?" 

"I'm so bored," Gordon wailed. "And your girlfriend is being mean to me."

"Fiancée," John corrected him, not looking up from his work. 

"It's not my fault I hate sitting around doing nothing all day. I’ve gone from a physically and mentally intensive, fifty plus hour a week job, to sitting on my ass from dawn until dusk. Can you blame a guy for getting twitchy?"

"Unfortunately, you don't have much of a choice at the moment," John reminded him, quite needlessly he thought. 

"Gee, thanks for the reminder," Gordon huffed, trying to cross his arms although the cast and sling he was sporting prevented it. That just seemed to annoy him even more. 

"I can't do anything right now! How do you do it?" 

"Do what?" John asked, squinting through his magnifier at the small window frame he was carving from a piece of polymer clay. 

"Just sit around all day."

John raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "I don't sit around all day."

"OK, float around then. It's not like you're actively running around like the rest of us are."

"I'll pretend I never heard you say that," John scowled, wishing Selene had dumped his brother into the sea instead of into his quiet, peaceful room. 

"You're sitting around right now," Gordon pointed out, gesturing to the desk John was  sitting at, which was currently doing double duty as a work table for his latest project. 

"One day you'll learn to appreciate the benefits of a quiet, occupied mind and a still body," John told him. 

Gordon sighed, propping his good elbow on the desktop, his chin resting in his upturned palm as he watched his brother fiddling with tiny things that seemed utterly useless to him. 

"What are you even doing?" 

"Working on a series of book nooks for Sel's side of the bookcase," John answered, sounding slightly distracted as he measured the finished window against its place in an intricately carved brick wall. 

"Why?" 

"Because she likes them."

"I mean why are you making it? Can't you just buy her one? It's not like you can't afford it."

"Where's the challenge in that? Besides, things are always more special when you make them yourself."

Gordon yawned and leant forward to rest his head on the tabletop. 

"Do you want to help?" John offered, although honestly Gordon's version of helping was always patchy at best. 

Gordon scooted closer to look over John's shoulder, eyes darting over the rectangular box that he was building the nook inside. About the size of two thick books sandwiched together, the nook already had a little cobbled street and two shop fronts in place. The tabletop was scattered with a selection of impossibly tiny screwdrivers, picks, scalpels and other instruments of possible torture that he couldn't hope to name. 

"Pass," he announced decisively, flicking the control of his hoverchair so he spun in a wide circle, pointing to the door. "I'm out."

"Peace at last," John sighed, flicking his magnifier back into place over his right eye as he set aside the window to be baked later and reached for a fresh blob of clay. 

-x-

"What ya dooooooing?" Gordon yodelled, slamming the bedroom door open so hard that it smacked into the wall and shook several picture frames. He scooted his way into the room without even waiting for an invite. 

"Gordon!" John huffed, clutching his heart where it was trying to leap out of his chest from the shock of his brother’s sudden, and very noisy, entrance. 

"Hi, I got bored, thought I'd drop in on my favourite big brother," Gordon grinned as he glided his hoverchair closer. 

"Are Scott and Virgil busy?" John asked, that would be the only reason Gordon would have promoted him to his favourite. 

"Yes," Gordon admitted, "but that's not the reason why I'm here."

John turned his head to shoot him a raised eyebrow of doom, clearly communicating without words that he didn't believe him in the slightest. 

"So, what are you doing?" 

"Working on this book nook," John replied patiently, holding up the small cauldron he was crafting. 

"The same one?" 

"Yes."

Gordon’s eyes nearly fell out of his head, "Still? It’s been four days!"

"Yes," John hissed out, starting to get frustrated by the constant questions. 

"Why?" 

"Because it takes a long time. If you're going to do a project you should do it right."

"At the speed you're going it's gonna take forever," Gordon snorted, casting an assessing eye over the work John had already done. 

"That doesn't matter," John assured him. "It's not really about the time it takes or the end result, it's about the process, the journey to get there."

"Sounds lame to me," Gordon yawned. 

"Obviously," John drawled, rolling his eyes. 

"What do you mean by that?" Gordon demanded to know, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. 

"Because it's you."

"Hey! Rude."

"Accurate," John said, placing the little cauldron down and selecting another piece of clay which he placed on a ceramic tile. 

"Why?"

"Because it requires a calm mind. It's good to slow down sometimes and just be still."

"Says the console jockey." 

Console Jockey? He did not just say that!

"So you don't think my job is stressful? Or as tiring and important as yours?" John snapped, wondering if it was bad form to smack your injured brother around the head with a partially constructed book nook. He glanced at the nook, he had put a lot of work into it… It would be a shame to waste it. That thought alone saved Gordon. 

“Well, yeah I get that it might be a bit stressful, but it’s not like you have to do much that puts you in danger, not like us,” Gordon continued, digging his hole even deeper, a hole that John was looking forward to shoving him into.

“We all have our specialities, you couldn’t do your job without me doing mine,” John retorted, trying very hard not to let Gordon’s comments get to him. Gordon would never understand what it was like for him to be stuck so far away from the action, away from his brothers when things were going wrong. 

Gordon, thankfully for him, had been unconscious from the moment he had activated his emergency code. He hadn’t heard the frantic calls going out over the comms as the family mobilized to help him.  He hadn’t heard the desperate scramble as Thunderbirds took off, racing to the scene. But John had heard it all. 

John had been the one to stay on the line with Gordon, talking to him the entire time, knowing that he probably wouldn’t hear it but feeling that he needed to say it all the same. He wanted to know that if his little brother regained consciousness for even a second he would hear a familiar voice, that he would know that they were coming, that they would rescue him. He would know that he wasn’t alone.

 He knew what it was like for people that were in danger, knew the comfort they got from someone talking to them, listening to their stories, being there for them verbally if not physically. John was often the one that spent the most amount of time with those they rescued, keeping their spirits up as much as possible until his brothers got there. 

His brothers were seen by their rescuees as the real heroes, the ones that leapt in and plucked them out of danger, but John was the one that got them that help, the one that made sure the rescue played out as best it could, liaising and coordinating until the job was done. But Virgil, Scott, Gordon and Alan were the ones that got the thanks , the ones that got the hugs after they dropped their charges off, not John. 

Not that he minded too much, he knew that his job was just as important as theirs, maybe even more so because, when someone put out that call for help, when they sent their desperate plea out into the world, they deserved to know that someone would always be listening out for it, that someone would hear and that help would come.

He knew all of this, and he knew that Gordon did too, it was just the frustration of inactivity that was making him say the things that he was. John just wished that that knowledge made it easier to listen to. 

“I might not be doing the physical rescuing,” John continued, feeling the need to push his point home. “But I work just as hard, when you’re home you’re off duty until a call comes in, you can relax, swim, watch movies and laze around until you’re needed. When I’m up there I’m on duty 24/7 and even when I do manage to catch some sleep it’s not deep or particularly restful. Any little noise, any call that triggers the system's keyword algorithm gets transferred automatically, I have to go from asleep to awake in seconds to take it.”

Gordon was quiet for once, watching him closely. John didn’t like it, it made him feel like an exhibit in a zoo. And here we have the little seen Tracy, see how he stays inside his hide and hardly ever ventures out… he knew how they saw him, why they likely thought he had the easy job. 

“These help, they give me something else to focus on. I need to keep my mind active and challenged while still trying to relax.” John paused, trying to think of a way to explain his thinking that Gordon might understand. 

“These are almost like a meditation,” he started. Gordon understood meditation and finding your zone. “Creating something out of almost nothing. It keeps my mind focused, helps with finger dexterity and hand eye coordination with the added bonus of it relaxing me. It’s good to slow down and take some time to do something creative, you should try it some time.” 

Gordon listened to his brother and he tried to take in all his words, he tried to understand the meaning behind them, he really did, but it just didn’t make any sense to him. He understood about wanting to be lazy, to sit around and do nothing sometimes. He loved to laze on the couch with his snackies and an Into the Unknown marathon playing out on the holoscreen, but that was watching something exciting, interesting, to him that was relaxing. This...whatever it was that John was actually doing, made no sense whatsoever to him. The idea of trying to relax by actually thinking...that was the most alien concept of all. 

Gordon knew, probably better than his family gave him credit for, what it was like to be mislabelled. Within every sibling pool, there were the mandatory roles: the serious one, the caring one, the smart one, the funny one, the calm one, the angry one, the one who sang in the shower, et cetera. He’d proudly embraced the role of ‘the funny one’, and had diligently flown the flag for the humour camp for as long as he could remember. If a brother came home from a rescue in a slump and needed a cheery pick-me-up, it was Gordon who stepped up to the task, irrespective of his own mood. His smile and laugh were infectious, and he had yet to encounter a frown he couldn’t (eventually) turn upside down.

But with every ‘role’ came misconceptions. Scott was serious, therefore people were quick to automatically assume that he was a killjoy.  Similarly, John’s intellect and preference for solitude often went hand in hand with him being branded antisocial, since there was apparently no possible way someone could enjoy their own company so much, yet still pursue and maintain meaningful relationships with actual people.

Gordon was no stranger to this treatment. He liked to laugh and be spontaneous, and consequently, was often regarded as the Tracy who didn’t take his work seriously, the Tracy who had the attention span of a gnat (albeit a very handsome one), and the Tracy who couldn’t be trusted with anything that required delicacy, be it physical or emotional. His affinity for making people laugh, though an exceptional quality, frequently acted as a double-edged sword. On the one hand, his relentless optimism made him the most effective of the bunch when it came to emergencies involving children and young adults. On the other hand, it sentenced him to a fate where the bad jokes he cracked would always be two steps ahead of the secret deep thinker that lay within.

“Let me see it again,” Gordon sighed, trying his best to be a supportive and understanding brother, since he did feel a little bad about the things he had just said. He hadn’t meant to say them, they had just come out. That was the trouble with being laid up from an injury, not only were you out of action but you were in pain, and pain made you grumpy and less likely to monitor the things that came out of your mouth the way you should.

He knew that John worked hard, hell he knew that what his brother had said was right, John was never truly off duty. They were all aware that he didn’t get enough sleep, enough down time, enough time to relax and just be. They knew that if John was on Five he would consider himself on duty, at work, and therefore he’d never allow himself to take time out. Things had changed since Selene had blundered her way into his life, now he spent a lot more time on the Island, which meant that he was finally taking some time out for himself. If one of the ways he chose to do that was by crafting ridiculously tiny things out of clay to stick in a hollowed out box that was his business. Gordon wasn’t there to judge, he was there to spend time with his brother.

John moved aside a little so Gordon could get a closer look, trying to resist the urge to smack his hand away every time Gordon reached for a tiny piece that had taken him hours to perfect. 

“These are really small,” Gordon mused, poking at a window that John had just finished painting, leaving behind a smudged fingerprint. “Woops, sorry, Bro.”

“Maybe you should try making something of your own,“ John suggested, carefully removing the window from his brother's possession and picking up a brush in order to attempt a fix.

Gordon nodded and John passed him a ceramic tile and a miniature rolling pin. 

“How about you try cutting me out a few shop sign bases?” John suggested.

“Do I get one of those scalpel things?” Gordon asked, a little too eagerly for John’s liking.

“Maybe we can work up to that,” John hedged, subtly moving the scalpel out of his brother’s reach and passing him a square cookie cutter. “Use this cutter for now.”

Gordon shrugged and spent a few minutes rolling and squishing the clay trying to get the thickness to the exact measurement that John insisted on. It wasn’t easy or fun.

“Nope!” Gordon announced, giving up and pushing the tile away. “It’s still boring. Pass.”

He swung his hoverchair around and headed in the direction of the door. “Later, Bro.”

“Oh...OK...later, I guess,” John stuttered, wondering just what he had done to deserve such a chaotic family as his.

“Oh, hey, boo, where are you go- WAHH!”

John’s head shot up as Selene’s yelp rang out from the hallway.

“Sorry!” 

“So you should be, you little shit,” she grumbled to his retreating back as she thumped into the room.

“What happened, love?”

“Let’s just say that if his chair had wheels I’d have lost a few toes,” she said, wincing in imagined pain. 

John scooted his desk chair back and patted his lap in offer, one that she happily accepted.

“So, why was Gordy doing his boy racer bit? What did you say to him?”

“Me? What makes you think I said anything to him?”

“Because I know you two?” 

“Fair,” he sighed, sliding his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “I don’t know what to do to help him.”

Selene turned her head to look at him, not liking the helpless look on his face.

“Babe, you are helping him, you’re there to keep him company or talk to him if he needs it, that’s more important than anything. What happened to make you think that you weren’t helping?”

“He was asking me about these again,” John nodded towards his work area on the desktop. “But he didn’t seem to understand, that or he just didn’t want to.”

“He’s Gordon,” she sighed. “You know what he’s like, he’s full on, he’s in your face and he’s not at all subtle. Taking his time with things just doesn’t compute with him.”

“It would do him good though, if he doesn’t learn to embrace it he’ll be exactly the same as he was last time.”

“Was he really that bad?” she asked, concern lacing her voice. 

John nodded. “He doesn’t do inactivity well. When he had his hydrofoil accident his therapist talked him into signing up for a virtual college degree in Environmental Management of Rivers and Wetlands. It was supposed to take him at least a year as a part time course with ANU in Canberra, but he blew through it in the first semester and earned himself a distinction for his insights on the impact of Anthropogenic Noise on Wetland Habitats. His professor was so impressed he offered him a fully funded PhD, citing his time with WASP and the time he spent in the bathyscaphe as practical experience that would make up for his lack of degree. Obviously he turned it down, but he still likes to rub our faces in it now and then.”

“Wow,” Selene breathed. “Forget his professor being impressed, I’m impressed.”

“He has a phenomenal brain,” John said, a small but very proud smile on his face. “When he actually decides to use it to its full potential, that is. There is nothing he can't do when he chooses to focus on something, he’s all in. It really helped him to feel like he was gaining something and moving forward even though he was sitting still.”

Selene nodded, understanding completely. She knew that all of her boys were wicked smart, but Gordon always presented himself as the least academic. He was more of a doer, wanting to be out in the field, learning as he went, diving in head first to every situation. 

But as Selene and John both knew, appearances could be deceiving.

“If that’s what helped him last time, then we need to find a way to convince him to try something new,” Selene insisted. 

“I tried, he’s not interested.”

“That was with your things, babe. We need to find something that’s a little more him, and I think I know just the thing.”

-x-

“I have arrived!” Gordon yodelled, announcing his entrance in his own unique way. He slid his hover chair in through the open door like the boss that he was, bringing his shining presence in to brighten up his middle brother's obviously dull existence. “Didja miss me?”

“Like a hole in the head,” John grumbled, turning to look at the grinning face of his brother. His eyes immediately began to water as they were assaulted by the far too bright colours of the shirt Gordon was wearing, a tie dyed monstrosity that Selene had made for him for his birthday. 

“A little more gratitude, if you please," Gordon huffed. 

“Grandma finally released you?”

“Yep,” Gordon stretched out his injured leg and patted the air cast on his now slingless arm. “Got time off for good behaviour.”

“I find that hard to believe,” John teased, then nodded to Gordon’s arm. “How’s it feeling?”

“Not too bad, my grip still isn't great but Grandma promised me that once the bone has finished knitting I’ll just need to exercise it and build the muscle strength up, then it’ll be as good as new.”

“That’s great, it won't be long before you're able to go back out with Virgil and stop, how did Sel put it, 'haunting the house like the ghost of Christmas future'?"

"Can't come soon enough," Gordon sighed, butting his chair right up close to John's, knocking his arm in the process. "What you do- you're still doing that? Still? It's been a week!" 

"It's not like I get a huge amount of down time," John pointed out. "I'm only here now because Sel said she'd dump me if I didn't make an effort to come down earlier in the evenings so I could actually eat a meal with you all."

"You actually believed that threat?" Gordon laughed. 

"Of course not, she'd never dump me, but I thought I had better humour her and let her feel like she at least had a little sway," John shrugged, pushing aside the little piece of doorstep he had been painting. "Honestly, it's nice to come down for a meal and family time, I hadn't realised how much I'd missed it until it was happening again."

"I guess we all got a bit too caught up in International Rescue after we lost Dad," Gordon admitted. 

"Like we had nothing else in our lives," John nodded, completely understanding. 

"Yep."

Gordon fell silent and John let him, concentrating on mixing the perfect colour acrylic to add a few highlights to his stones. 

"Can I have a go at making something? I bet I could do it quicker than you," Gordon asked, reaching towards what Selene called the sharps tub. John smacked the lid down on it just in time. 

"Actually, we got you a present."

"You did?" Instantly distracted, Gordon sat up straighter, excited by the prospect of a gift. "What did you get me?" 

This," John answered, opening his desk drawer and extracting an interestingly shaped bottle, upright with a thicker, rounded bottom and a thinner neck, ending a cork stopper. 

"Wow, is that an original?" Gordon asked, taking the bottle carefully and turning it to  study it from all angles. He knew exactly what this shaped bottle was, there had been a collection of them in Commander Shore’s office that he would stare at every time he got called in for some reprimand or another.

"19th century," John nodded. "Sel found it in a little shop in Mayfair. They assured her it was a genuine, used on a ship, captain's decanter from around the time of the civil war. They hadn’t fully traced it when Sel bought it but they think it came from one of the ships that fought in one of the smaller skirmishes around 1861.”

“This is really cool, thanks,” Gordon smiled, still turning the bottle over and over.

“It’s to hold this,” John continued, drawing Gordon’s attention back to him.

Grinning, John delved back into his desk drawer and pulled out a rather faded and quite dusty box. He brushed the dirt off the top and slid it over to Gordon. 

"A ship?" Gordon frowned. 

"Yep, Selene and I thought that you needed a little project of your own, so she had the idea to get you a ship in a bottle. You don’t see them a lot these days, but apparently her Grandfather had a couple and they always fascinated her.”

“So you put the ship in the bottle?”

“Yep, instructions are inside, go nuts.”

“Pfft, instructions,” Gordon snorted. “No one needs instructions, they’re a waste of time.”

-x-

“Ouch,” John hissed, hopping in place on one foot as he bent down to pick up what looked to be a tiny piece of mast that had attacked the sole of his foot. “Gordon, why are there bits of ship all over my floor?”

“Because I dropped them,” Gordon replied, his voice muffled due to the tongue of concentration that was peeking out from between his teeth.

Huffing, John gathered all the pieces off the floor, both pieces of ship and bits that they had been cut out of, and deposited them on the desk next to Gordon.

“How’s it coming along?” John asked, settling in his own chair. He’d only been gone a day but Gordon had managed to take over the entire bedroom, spreading his belongings, bottles, snack wrappers, his phone and a discarded hoodie, all over the place, as well as half the contents of the vintage ship box.

“It’s ridiculous. I think it’s missing pieces or something, it’s broken.”

“Well it was an old kit, but we were assured that it was complete,” John frowned, sliding the tray over that Gordon was supposed to be storing all the pieces in. “Have you checked the contents list and matched each piece to make sure they’re all there?”

Gordon looked at him blankly, like he was talking a foreign language.

“Did you check that everything was there before you started?" John elaborated.

“Of course I did,” Gordon promised, crossing his fingers and hoping his brother didn’t see. 

“Against the list?” John clarified.

“I eyeballed it, OK?”

“Not good enough,” John insisted. “That’s not how you go about doing things like this, you can’t just slap them together and hope for the best.”

“Why not?” Gordon whined. It worked for him in almost everything else he did in life. 

“Because this happens," John gestured to the mess surrounding them.

“Fine, I’ll read the damn instructions.”

Leaving Gordon to it John slid his almost completed book nook over and picked up his paintbrush to start adding some finishing touches before he started on the wiring for the lights. He’d barely done more than five minutes when Gordon started huffing.

John waited a little longer, trying his hardest to ignore the ever increasing sounds of frustration and impatience from his brother. In the end he couldn't stand it a moment longer, he had to ask the most loaded question ever.

“What’s the problem?” John asked, pushing his own work aside.

“These instructions don’t make sense,” Gordon bitched, flapping the paper in John’s face. “Look at the little picture here, you have to stick this little pole into that hole in the deck but the deck doesn’t want to stay together and that piece there keeps sliding and the pictures make no sense.”

“That’s because you missed around eight steps in between,” John told him, praying for patience. 

“No I didn't, I followed the pictures exactly,” Gordon insisted. 

“The steps aren’t in the pictures,” John explained. “See right there?” he pointed to the words above the pictures. “The pictures are a diagram of each finished stage, not how to get there. They are for reference only, not instructions.”

“Urghhh, this is going to take forever,” Gordon pouted, crossing his arms. “What’s the point?”

“The point is that by the end of it you’ll have something unique that no one else does, something you can be proud of and know that you built with your own two hands.”

“I’m not sure it’s worth the effort,” Gordon muttered.

“It is,” John promised. “I’ll help. How about I read out the instructions and you follow along? We’ll get through it quicker that way.”

Gordon wasn’t convinced, but John looked so hopeful that he didn’t have the heart to refuse him, especially since he and Selene had gone to so much trouble to get the things for him in the first place. He might be a miserable little sod, but he wasn’t that ungrateful. He knew that they had gone out of their way to get something they thought he’d like, the least he could do was make the thing, even if he knew he wouldn’t enjoy it. Maybe John was right, working together they could get through it quicker, and that could only be a good thing.

“Alright,” Gordon agreed, “let’s give it a go.”

Slowly, methodically, John read out each piece that was needed and Gordon located them, storing them neatly in a wooden box that Selene provided when she popped in to bring them drinks an hour or so later. She stayed just long enough to steal a kiss from John and drop one on the top of Gordon’s head before she beat a hasty retreat, not wanting to get roped into helping. She wasn’t the best at following instructions and didn’t want to get grumped at.

By the time they had all the pieces checked and catalogued they had discovered there were indeed two pieces missing, but thankfully they were easy fixes, just a small , round piece of wood to represent a porthole, which they could easily make a replacement for and a piece of mast. One snipped toothpick later and that was sorted too.

John started with the first set of instructions, reading them out patiently as Gordon found and fitted them together. 

“So, how’s work been?” Gordon asked, like a chatty hairstylist, as he carefully dipped the end of a thin dowel into a small pot of wood glue. 

“Same as ever,” John deadpanned, “a bunch of idiots that got themselves into trouble and needed help, and only half of them related to us.”

Gordon sniggered, glancing at John, seeing the sly smile on his brother’s face. He’d forgotten just how amusing John could be when he delivered something sarcastically witty with such a serious tone. Gordon hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it, wondering just what his more serious brother would come out with next. John was always like that, he seemed so quiet and reserved but, when he was relaxed and in company he was comfortable with he’d take you by surprise by letting loose a zinger that you couldn’t help but laugh at.

“Let’s not talk about work,” Gordon suggested, “we haven’t hung out properly in ages, you’re either up in Five or there are other people around.”

“Is that your way of saying you’ve missed me?” John teased.

“Maybe,” Gordon allowed, “but if you ever tell anyone I said that I’ll deny it and tell Grandma you want her to make your birthday cake this year.”

John held his hands up in surrender, although he couldn’t hold in the laugh that bubbled up as he reached for the instructions again.

“OK, let’s get this done before we stop enjoying each other’s company.”

They worked slowly but steadily over the next few hours, putting together the structure for the first mast. Once it was done they called it quits and abandoned it for another day, the smell of something tasty coming from the kitchen proving to be too much to ignore.

-x-

 “Gordon, that’s my finger.”

“Oh, sorry, can you just like… I don’t know, yank it off?”

“If I wish to leave half my identifying fingerprints behind, yes.”

“Do you really need them?”

John didn’t dignify that with an answer, the look he threw at his brother communicated his thoughts perfectly. 

“OK, OK, I’ll get some dissolver from Virgil’s studio, wait right there,” Gordon instructed him, grabbing his crutches and hobbling his way out of the room. 

John sighed, keeping his hand perfectly still, the hull of the boat dangling from his fingertip. He was still there five minutes later when Gordon clumped his way back in, Selene hot on his heels. She had the glue dissolver under one arm, a large bag of chips under the other and a plate of sandwiches in each hand. 

She dumped the plates on the desk, then the chips, before turning to see the state her fiancé was in.

“Do I even want to know?” 

“Probably not,” Gordon winced, dropping down into his abandoned desk chair and reaching for a plate.

“Can you at least help me before you start stuffing your face?” John asked, waggling his hand, which made the boat sway violently from side to side.

“Can’t, eating,” Gordon mumbled around the massive mouthful he had just taken.

“What did I say?” she demanded to know. “No hurting the hands, you know how I feel about that.” 

John wiggled his fingers again, drawing her attention to his plight. He looked so pathetic with the half built little ship swinging from his hand that Selene took pity on him, intervening when he looked like he was about to grab the thing and yank it off himself, fingerprints be damned.

“Oh for the love of the Gods, let me do it!” Taking his hand she used a paintbrush to smear glue dissolver around the area of skin it was stuck to. She took her time, rewetting and using the brush bristles to push the dissolver under the boat, trying to  ease it free from his skin with minimal pulling.

“Thank you,” he sighed, sitting patiently while she worked. Thankfully it didn’t take her too long, although it took a lot of cursing under her breath and the odd ouch from him to get there. 

“One boat,” she announced, placing it triumphantly on the desk. 

“Fanks,” Gordon said, spraying chip crumbs as he did so.

“Welcome,” she said, brushing at her leg which had unfortunately been in splatter range. Still holding John’s hand she bestowed a kiss to each of his abused digits before releasing him. 

“Right, I’m out of here. Play nicely, you two, I don’t want to have to send Grandma in to babysit you both.”

“It won’t come to that,” John assured her, reaching for his own sandwich. “We’ve not got much left to do now. We just have to attach the rigging to the masts, check that they fold properly then insert th-”

“I’m out, I don’t need to hear anything about insertion, not after you just glued a boat to your hand,” Selene declared, her exit swift and to the point, the door shutting firmly behind her.

“She has a point,” Gordon admitted, swallowing his last bite. He pushed the chip bag in John’s direction, although there was barely more than a handful and a few crumbs left in it. 

“But we’ll never admit it to her face,” John insisted, steadily munching through the large sub she had brought for him. 

“Never,” Gordon agreed. 

-x- 

Gordon sighed dramatically as he crutched his way down the hall from his bedroom. John’s bedroom door was open but his brother wasn’t inside. The ship, now fully rigged, sat beside the bottle on the desk, just waiting to be placed inside once some sand had been poured in as a base. Gordon had chosen all different shades of blue to represent the sea and had even watched a few videos on how to do sand pouring art, something he’d never expected to find even remotely interesting, yet he couldn’t bring himself to go in and make a start on it.

John had barely been home the past week and when he had it had only been for food and enforced sleep. Even then he had been known to sneak out of bed the second Selene was asleep, being discovered on numerous occasions sitting at their father’s desk until the small hours working on this, that or the other. 

Emergencies, and therefore the need for their services, had seemed to increase three fold, something Selene was blaming on the moon phase and mercury going retrograde and, for want of a better explanation, they were all inclined to agree. There was no rhyme or reason for the surge in idiots that were calling in at all hours of the day and night with trucks caught under a too low bridge causing a pile up, hands stuck down toilets, drunks climbing to the top of electricity pylons and repair men getting trapped inside ATM machines they had been fixing.

His brothers had been on the go near constantly, whether it was from rescue call outs or working on their plan to find their father,  but none more so than John. While Selene had always been good at what she liked to call Tracy Wrangling, none more so that when she was dealing with a stressed out Scott, even she had admitted defeat and left them to their own devices. Self preservation was key after all. 

John had been dealing with not only rescue calls and Chaos Crew sightings, but signal tracking, GDF liaising and general hoop jumping, all of which had kept him far too busy.

It had been over a week since they had done anything to their project and Gordon was feeling the loss. Not so much of the project, although that really had helped with his frustrations at his lack of physical ability, not that he would ever admit that to John, but in spending time with his brother.

Much to his surprise he’d found that he was reluctant to work on it alone, it had become their thing to do together. It was a time where they would hang out, shoot the shit, reminisce about childhood memories, times that they had spent together talking about their hope for the future where they would find their father alive and bring him home.

Both of them knew that it wouldn’t be easy, that if they did manage to find him there would be no telling what physical or mental state he would be in. Gordon knew from experience just how tough physical injury, limitations, and recovery could be on the mind and the body,  especially in someone who had been as active and viril as Jeff Tracy. 

They all knew, although no one seemed to want to talk about it, that as hard as it was going to be to actually locate him and hopefully bring him home, that would only be the beginning of what could potentially be an incredibly long and difficult journey of rehabilitation and reintegration into the family and the world as a whole. 

John had been right, taking some time to be quiet, to slow down and think while keeping your mind and hands busy really was a productive way to spend your rest hours and, stupid as it sounded, Gordon didn’t really want that to end. 

He was only a week or two away from potential cast removal and a return to physical activities like his beloved swimming and strength training in their home gym and, while he couldn’t wait to get back to it, he knew he’d feel the loss of his enforced quiet time. 

He glanced again at the abandoned ship on the desk and turned away, clumping down the hall towards the stairs. So it would take them a little longer to get it finished, Gordon was fine with that because for once he wasn’t feeling the need to rush.

-x-

“Remember to pour it slowly,” Gordon instructed as he held the funnel in place, its long pipe reaching right down into the bottom of the jar. “Start with the darkest one, that’s going to be our base colour.”

“I’ve got it,” John assured him, selecting the tub of midnight blue sand and scooping some out into a smaller pot to make things easier. At Gordon’s nod he began to slowly and steadily pour the sand into the open neck of the funnel. As he watched Gordon expertly directed the tube, allowing the sand to pour out to pool in the bottom of the bottle.

At Gordon’s signal John stopped pouring and waited while Gordon carefully removed the tube and used a long metal skewer to poke and prod the sand into something that looked vaguely like waves.

“The next colour up,” Gordon requested and John did as he was asked. They repeated the process four more times with different shades of blue, John pouring in a little at a time, Gordon directing the tube to deposit  more in one place than others, mimicking the movement of sea waves as best they could. In between each layer Gordon used the skewer to poke and mix the colours here and there, blending the layers into a smoother transition.

“That’ll do,” Gordon said confidently, twisting the bottle so John could see the full effect. 

John had to admit that he had been pleasantly surprised when Gordon had announced that he had ordered some coloured sand and looked up how to do sand art on the internet. He hadn’t really known what to expect, although he would admit, if only to himself, that he had thought that Gordon would be a little heavy handed and impatient, but once again he had proved him wrong. He really had done his research and the result was a beautiful mix of colours that really did give a perfect impression of a gently moving sea.

“That’s looking great.”

“I know,” Gordon grinned, modest as always. “Where’s that resin gone?”

“Here,” John answered, pushing it across the desk towards his brother. “Make sure you read the instructions and measure the amounts accurately or it won’t set and you’ll ruin the sand and the bottle.”

“Yeah, yeah I got this,” Gordon assured him as he did indeed read the instructions through properly. Once he had familiarised himself with the ratio of resin to hardener, he measured carefully and poured them into a mixing jug. Once it was fully mixed he slowly, gently, poured the mixture a little at a time into the bottle on top of the sand. With each little pour he waited for the resin to trickle down between the grains, slowly adding to it until all the sand was covered. 

“And now we wait,” John said, carefully placing the bottle in the patch of bright sunlight coming in through the window. 

“Wanna watch a movie?” Gordon offered casually, not really expecting his brother to agree. John hardly ever watched anything with just him, they had vastly different tastes in movies and John usually made some polite excuse to escape.

“Sure, sounds good.”

“Really?” Gordon goggled, his eyes almost falling out of his head. “You don’t have anything more important to do?”

“More important than watching a movie with my little brother? I don’t think so,” John grinned, retrieving Gordon’s crutches from where they were leaning against his bookshelf and tossing them to him one by one. “Come on, last one to the lounge picks the movie.”

“Hey, no fair!” Gordon yelled, scrambling to his feet as he fumbled with his crutches. “You’ve got legs like a giraffe and neither of them are broken!”

“Sucks to be you,” John tossed over his shoulder as he took off down the hall to victory.

-x-

“Careful,” John warned.

“I am being careful,” Gordon snapped. “I got this.”

“Your hand’s shaking.”

“Thanks for that, Captain Obvious.” He steadied his, only slightly shaky, hand by propping his elbow on the desk for stability. “OK, let’s do this.”

They both held their breath as Gordon maneuvered the body of the boat through the opening in the bottle, making sure each sail stayed carefully folded down and the strings remained untangled before he fed it down the neck and into the bottle.

“Phase one, complete,” John intoned in such a serious voice that Gordon couldn’t help the laugh that he snorted out.

“Pass me those long nosed tweezers?” Gordon asked, holding out a hand.

John slapped the requested instrument into his brother's hand like a nurse in an operating theater, provoking another burst of laughter.

“Thanks.” 

“Welcome.”

Making sure the strings of the sails were still dangling outside of the bottle, Gordon carefully moved the body of the boat further down into the bottle with the metal skewer until the stern touched the top of the resin and sand layer. 

“Now the sails,” Gordon whispered, hardly daring to breathe as John moved in to help, taking over the holding of the strings while Gordon reached in with the tweezers.

Gently, working together, they started the delicate process of tugging gently on each string, unfolding the paper sails and locking them in place.

“String one.”

“Got it. Watch number four sail.”

“Yep, thanks...OK… can you just give string five a little pull? Perfect.”

“Sail three is flopping!”

“Gah, hang on, just got to tighten that...yep that’s got it.”

“Maybe if I gather…”

“Yep, that’s good, do that again.”

“This next bit is going to require a delicate touch, maybe I should-”

“Hey! I can be delicate!”

“It’s not coming up...back sail two is stuck, release it...careful!”

“There, saved it.”

John gently pulled the strings a little more and there it was, their ship, sails proudly upright and everything. He kept hold of the strings, while Gordon held on to the boat with the tweezers as they carefully lifted the bottle from its side to its proper upright position.

Using the skewer John maneuvered around Gordon’s hand and nudged the boat into a better position before he carefully released the strings. They both held their breath, hoping and praying that the sails wouldn't collapse the second the strings fell. 

The boat, with its sails, stayed strong.

“Yes!” Gordon cheered, holding up his free hand for a high five, grinning when his brother’s palm smacked against his own.

“Scalpel,” Gordon joked as John handed it to him so they could lop off a little of the trailing strings. Then, using the skewer, they arranged the strings around the edges of the boat. 

With the boat finally upright and in place, they added another layer of light blue coloured sand with a sprinkling of white to mimic the tips of the waves. They finished it off by pouring in a little more resin, both to set the sand and hold the boat in place, using the tweezers to make sure it was correctly positioned.

“Phew,” Gordon breathed, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his cast covered leg. “We did it. Go team.”

“We did,” John smiled. “And it looks damn good.”

“It really does,” Gordon agreed, shifting his head to look at the bottle from all angles. 

“Nothing left to do but let it dry and put the stopper in,” John said. “How do you feel now it’s done? Was it worth the time?”

“I still think we could have done it a lot faster if you’d just let me skip a few steps in the instructions and do it my way, but it wasn’t that bad,” Gordon admitted. “I’m oddly proud of it.”

“You should be, you did good,” John leant back in his chair, crossing his arms as he relaxed. “Are you going to stop teasing me about my book nooks now?”

“Pssh, no,” Gordon snorted. “Ships are cool, yours will always be boring.”

He didn’t see the bottle of water coming until it was too late.

-x-

Gordon walked straight to John’s room from the infirmary,  feeling oddly free without his crutches and casts. Six weeks was a long time, after all.

The bottle with its little ship sat exactly where they had left it in the center of John’s desk next to the abandoned book nook that was still not finished. It took him very little time to insert the cork stopper and pour a little of Selene’s spell bottle sealing wax around the top, a bright, cheery yellow wax that matched his beloved Thunderbird Four.

He smiled as he thought of his little craft, waiting down in her dock for him, ready to be taken out when the next call came in. It had been a long and frustrating time but finally, blessedly, that time was over.

He poked an experimental finger into the wax seal, checking that it had set properly. It had, and he couldn’t help feeling a little sad about it. It had been a project that at first he’d had very little interest in, but slowly it had turned into so much more. Not just something to wile away a few hours but a chance for him to reconnect with the brother he spent the least amount of time with. 

Years ago, back when he had been small, John had been his everything. When Alan had been too tiny to be of any use and Scott and Virgil had been too old to be bothered with him hanging around, it had been John that had been there for him. It was John that had patiently listened as he read aloud from his sealife books, who had watched movies with him, played with him, and spent the most amount of time with him. Back then, their three year age difference had seemed like so little but so much at the same time, an older brother that made him feel wanted and included when the other two saw him as an annoyance.

Gordon couldn’t quite put his finger on when things had changed, when they had slowly drifted apart. John had seemed to grow up so much faster than he had, Alan had welded himself to his side, looking up to Gordon as he had to John  and things had never been the same again. 

It had been too long since they had been able to just hang out, to laugh, to tease each other without things going too far and one of them getting annoyed. It had been nice and Gordon had realised that he didn’t want to go back to nothing but hollocalls to Five when an emergency came in or the odd family dinner and movie night where he had to share with the rest of the family. John was the only brother that Gordon didn’t spend one on one time with as standard and he realised that, no matter how much he might blame it on John being so far away, in reality it was as much his fault as John’s.

Gordon picked up the bottle, leaving a box in its place. The model kit of the Mercury Project space capsule and its launch pad had been hard to find even with his junker contacts. In fact, he had almost given up and  admitted defeat before he'd thought to look at the label on his ship box and sent the shop owner an email.

Smiling to himself, knowing that there was no way John would be able to resist that challenge, he took the finished bottle, with its little ship, to his room where it would take pride of place on his bookshelf, a constant reminder that even in the worst of times, positivity could still be found.

“Thanks, Bro.”

[kaaytea]

S/O does their makeup

⤷Includes: Akaashi, Kuroo, Bokuto, Sugawara

A/N: wow look I did self insert stuff for once, absolutely wild. I had a blast writing this so enjoy :))

----------------------------------------------------------

Akaashi

The both of you were lying on the couch in the living room, he was lying on top of you while you scrolled through Instagram

You landed on a post with a very pretty, shimmery smoky eye

Inspiration has struck ✨

"Kaashi?"

"hmm?"

"can I do your makeup?"

"..."

"ok"

Tired Akaashi = he really doesn't care as long as he can relax

He gets up off of you and waits for you to return with yo makeup bag

He mayhaps have dozed off for a bit while you were doing his eyebrows

You were just being very gentle with him and he was so relaxed he just-🥺🥺 sleepy boy

You had to wake him up to do his eyeshadow tho and you felt so bad bc he looked so peaceful

He hated the eyeliner

It felt weird and you poked his eye a few times bc he kept moving

3/10 he doesn't recommend not a fun experience

You on the other hand were loving the look rn tho

He had a shimmery black smoky eye w/ some sliver glitter on the lid, and winged liner

Originally you wanted to do lashes too but decided not to for his safety and comfort

"Akaashi I need you to open your mouth slightly"

".....huh?"

"I'm putting your lipstick on"

"ok"

He's so compliant, he knows how happy this is making you so he just rolls with it

When you finish he opens his eyes and looks at you and you just 😳😳

If you thought he was beautiful before he is absolutely gorgeous now

"can I see?"

" OH... uh yeah sure"

You give him a hand held mirror and....he actually really likes how he looks? Never really thought makeup was for him but.... apparently it is bc wOw his brows look good

Has a big smile when he looks back at you

" I really like it"

" I- you don't hate it? Really?"

" of course not, my eyebrows look cool :))"

Only Akaashi Keiji would describe his perfect eyebrows as "cool"

Kuroo

Ha ha a curious kitty

You had just finished organizing your makeup, you had been putting off going through all of it and getting rid of expired/things you didn't use but you finally did it and now everything is v v clean and organized

Little did you know this curious cat had been watching you the whole time from your bed

Literally didn't even know he was there till he spoke to you

"Could you do my makeup?"

"what? You really want me to put makeup on you?"

"yeah, I'm intrigued by it. I wanna know how it feels"

You just kinda shrug, grab a few products and go to sit in front of him on the bed

Doesn't fidget at all, he stays completely still throughout the entire process

Asks alot of questions tho

"what's this do?"

" That's an eyelash curler"

" It looks like a torture device"

At first you were just gonna put some eyeliner on him and give him a fun lip color, but then you added a bit of pink eyeshadow and some gold graphic liner...and some red liner on his lower lash line

Yeah you kinda went wild

He was snooping around in the lil bag you had your single shadows in when you heard him gasp

" is this heart shaped glitter??!!"

"uuh yeah"

"PUT IT ON ME!!"

He's very excited about the glitter 😌😌

You put it high up on his cheek bones/ under his eyes

By some miracle you were able to get lashes on him

He was very happy with how it turned out

" damn I look really hot"

"wait this isn't fair, how come you're like 10x more sexy now :("

"Some people are just born with it babe"

Deff sends a photo to Bokuto and acts like he's trying to slide into his dms

"Hey there big boy, heard you're good at spiking balls, maybe you could hit some other things for me ;))"

"HDJDBSKSJ!!!"

"WAIT WHY DO YOU ACTUALLY LOOK GOOD?? I DONT LIKE THIS!!!"

";))"

Bokuto

He's the one who asked you

He was really bored and just kinda flopped on your bed, it was one of those stormy days where you couldn't go out

He spotted your makeup bag on top of the dresser

Came up to you in the kitchen holding it like 🥺👉👈

"Can you make me pretty like you?"

"you're already pretty Bo"

"But I want to be as pretty as you.."

"....ok sit down"

"🥰🥰"

Will nOt stop moving, he is vErY fidgety

Opens almost every product you have and smells it

Was very excited to find out liquid lipstick smelt like cupcakes

You let him choose what colors he wanted bc of how excited he seemed

Was that a mistake?....maybe but the way his face lit up looking at all the colors was worth it

"YEs!"

"so you want blue eyeshadow with lime green eyeliner and purple lipstick?"

He's just a big puppy let him be 🥺🥺

You had to redo his eyeliner like 3 times bc he kept fidgeting

Liked looking at all the different brushes you had, he also ranked them by their softness level

Picked up one of your blending brushes and booped you on the nose with it

Explaining fake lashes to him is so difficult, he looks at you like you're explaining rocket science

"you just add a bit of glue on here, and then put the lash on your eye. They just make your lashes look really long and full"

"......eye wigs"

"I- no"

He was very excited when you finished

Immediately took on the persona of a rich lady

Was using one of the tote bags you use to carry your groceries as a "purse" and grabbed the small bitchy sunglasses you own

He looked really good

"ok ok, Bo thats enough"

"Sorry what? I don't speak poor person"

Sugawara

Sunday afternoon cuddles with Suga are the best

You guys were both lounging curled up together doing your own things

He was reading a book Ennoshita recommend and you were messing around on your phone

You ended up getting bored so you put your phone down to snuggle closer to him

You just kinda watched him read for a bit, admiring his features

He let out a small sigh and put his book down

"What are you thinking about?"

"Just how pretty you are"

"Well I think you're gorgeous"

He's such a sweetheart 🥺

You guys just kinda enjoy the silence for a bit as he pressed light kisses down your jaw

"Would you let me do your makeup?"

"mmm I don't know..."

"....I'll give you kisses"

"...."

"deal 👀"

Tells you not to do anything too crazy, which is fine with you

You opt for the classic cat eye and red lip 😌

He stays still for the most part but makes you take breaks when doing the eyeliner bc it feels funky

He has a habit of humming so he hums lil songs for you while you work 🥺

Had a blAst playing with your beauty blender, it was like a lil stress ball

He looks v v good with highlighter on, he's just got really nice cheek bones

Sorry babe but fake lashes aren't happening, he will physically resist if you attempt to put them on him

He liked the lipstick tho, it felt nice

You took a picture of him before handing him a mirror new phone background

Was kinda meh about wearing makeup but complimented your skills

He loves encouraging you and praising your skills bro

"you're really good at doing makeup y/n"

"well I'd hope so, I've been doing it for a long time"

"....."

"Can I get my kisses now"

"Of course you can baby"

The kisses were worth the wait :))

[van-yangyin]

Compilation of characters that appear in the background of our worlds (@lea-heartscxiv and me), although some of them are still not finished as for example Ifrit who lacks the skin with scars and burns (apart from small fixes that I never know if they can be solved).

Ifrit (Beta 2)

This was the second time I converted Ifrit for the sims, because I learned to do it better and I didn't like the previous one.

Uploaded on my Twitter on January 4th, 2021.

And yes, I tried to make Shiva, as you can see in the picture above, but the usb where I had all the backup information in case something happened to the computer was screwed up and to recover all that I had to pay a lot of money, so I only had this picture that I made a few years ago, if at some point in the future I have the courage to do it again I will try again so Ifrit is not left alone in our world. 

(I hadn't yet learned how to use the proportional editing and sculpting tool properly in Blender. Besides in those days I was doing the retexturing manually in photoshop after repositioning the uv_0 in blender instead of using blender cycles baking 😆💦 I remember saving the repositioned uv_0 in the sim .png on the folder, the original mesh uv .png when it was a conversion of an existing model [since at that time I didn't even know how to make my own models very well] and then in photoshop open everything together and try to make the original uv with the texture match the repositioned uv_0. Part of learning how to use cycle baking was the one that made me start Ifrit all over again, so that the textures were accurate, but in his case I did it before the external usb broke down.)

Other characters that we have around in our world  Tho they still need to be improved to look more like the originals (not counting some serious clothing problems like Kairi's dress).

With Sora I have yet to make ダブルフォーム (Double Form) version, but it needs a different uv on the clothing to work, so it can't be used on this particular garment and for the moment I didn't touch it again, when I get inspired in the future I may do it.

Uploaded on my Twitter on January 21st, 2021.

And finally of this compilation all of them.

Kairi-chan obviously doesn’t appear in our our words (unless it is a game in which we play with the little ones or appears in some memory of her) is a version that in the future will be improved and try to do in HD, hair included since I learned to make them in Blender, but for the moment remains as I did at the time, since it is also clothes that our toddler OCs use to cosplay her as a young girl and there are other parts of the project that have priority. On the other hand from Naminé I have to convert her hair but I have to do her hair texture first. As for Strelitzia I have to change her clothes to the one shown in the HD illustration (which I created in MD and Blender and converted to sims before the special illustration of the 5 years anniversary of UX was released) and obviously now I also have to create the clothes she appears in KH4 (not counting the different hairpin and that she no longer wears the pigtails in the shape of strelitzias). [This is now becoming more of a writing to remember, rather than to show the characters that appear in our worlds. (๑˃∀˂๑)ｱﾊﾊﾊ] As for Master of the Masters, he's our special one and we will always have him at the top of lists of our worlds. (≧∇≦)

Uploaded on my Twitter on January 21st, 2021.

And here ends the complication of this post, I don't put many tags so as not to bother people with my random stuff.

Sora’s sim made by @lea-heartscxiv​ Hairs, clothes and accesories converted by me Strelitzia made by me from scratch on Blender and MD Lunafreya’s hair credit here Feet used on Naminé’s sandals and Ifrit’s feet by @magic-bot

Thank you so much for the CC used here 💓

~Extra~

Last year I converted Aqua's clothes and reconverted the hair for the second time, this time with a texture made by me with the bases of the textures of the original game. There is still a long way to go but I like the final result so far.

[simbelene]

Deborah Hauzz: A History

#SorryNotSorry for being this chaotic. Something has to be said! 

There will be a transcription under each image. The words may be hard to read

Today we’ll be talking about Ms. Deborah Hauzz.

Aka Hauzz Archtiecture, Aka Houzz Architecture, Aka Simshouzz

She’s a “Content Creator” that’s made quite a name for herself in the last few months. Love her or hate her, she’s here and she aint going anywhere!

I’m just here to document her story so far

Before we get into the tea. here’s a little background on our girl. From what I can gather, Hauzz stepped on the scene in January of 2017. It’s the earliest date I could find via twitter. As far as I can tell, Hauzz has always been about builds. Even in 2017 they were posting builds that they put together on their website, TheSimsCake. The website and Facebook page is no longer active. 

The only builds from Hauzz you’ll find now are the ones on their Patreon, and that only goes back to February of this year 👀

*Notice how there’s no more in game lots on their Patreon.(but there used to be!) You can still find old images of their lots on their twitter page

They took all of their in-game content down from Patreon and I think I know why!

It started in January of 2021. A tumblr account by the name of @hel-studio​ published this cute beach set:

Cute Right?I 

I guess Hauzz thought it was cute too because they went and used Hel-Studios’ content without asking permission or leaving link

I don’t have the Patreon receipt, but you can always find receipts on the internet!

That same month, Hauzz was under fire again for the same thing. 

Different creator, same problem

I believe it was at this point that Hauzz decided to scrap all of their in game content and just stick to making Blender content. That’s why when you view their Patreon, it only goes back to February of this year.

Switching to Blender is fine. Do you boo.

But you brought that same energy to Blender though and it’s not a good look!

Not a good look at all!

Part 2 | Part 3

[melonsloth]

Tutorial - Decor crowds (and decor sims)

Hi everyone! Someone asked me if I could make a tutorial showing how I make decor crowds. Now my university stress is mostly gone so I finally have the time and energy to show the procress. 

I am not going to show how to make poses, so if you don’t already know how to make poses, I recommend this tutorial.

This tutorial works for both one sim and for crowds. You just need to skip some parts if you only want to make one sim.

Now, let’s get started.

You will need:

TS4 SimRipper

Sims 4 Studio and Blender (preferably 2.70 if you want to follow along with my tutorial in the same version)

Image editing tool of your choosing, I use Paint Tool Sai, but you can use any that supports files with transparent backgrounds (PNG-files).

I recommend that you create one folder which you work within to keep track on all files, but that it up to your own preference!

Edit: 3/8-2020 Hello everyone! I can recommend checking out this tutorial if you experience any problems with shadows! It’s extremely useful and made by the talented @theroyalthornoliachronicles​

Step 1 - Make one or a bunch of sims.

Make one or more sims that you want to have as your decor sims/crowd. Name them something easy like A A or 1 1. Each of these sims are names 1.1 1, 1.2 1, 1.3 1, etc. This makes them very easy to locate later.

When you’re finished, save your game and close/minimize it.

Step 2 - Launch TS4 SimRipper

TS4 SimRipper is super easy to use. Place it in a folder so you have every file at the same place, unzip it, install it and then launch the program. If you cannot find the file, it should be a program file, look below for a guide.

When it launches, press Select (1) and choose the file at the top of the list. Let it load (don’t click anything). 

When it’s finished, choose the sim you want to export (2). Again wait, it may take a while but that is normal. 

When the sim is loaded, press Save as .dae (3). This is going to also take a while, so you can do other stuff in the meantime. For example, you may proceed to the next step in this tutorial. Remember to name them something easy to find, like 1, 2, 3, etc.

Remember to check if the program is finished every now and then to export the other sims you made.

If you cannot find the program, it should look like this. My system language is Swedish, but it should be named something along the line of program under the type-category.

Step 3 - Export files and rigs from Sims4Studio.

Now it’s time to start making the decor sims. Either start with Objects (1) or Poses (2). If you want a tutorial on how to make poses, please follow the tutorial I linked above. 

When it comes to Object (2), choose create 3D Mesh and then the blue button.

Like my last tutorial, we are going to use these books are our base. Start by searching for them (1), click on them (2) and then press Next (3). Name it whatever, but I recommend a name that will make sense a mod folder. 

When it has loaded, click on Meshes and choose Export Mesh (1). Again, name the file whatever you want. I named my Grund - which means base in Swedish.

Step 4 - Working in Blender

Open the newly exported mesh in Blender by double-clicking on it. You should be met with something that looks like this.

Open the File-folder and press Append, or just click Shift + F1. 

Choose one of the poses you made in advance or just import the rig you exported earlier. I am using a pose from my Mourning pose pack. Click on the pose (1), then Object (2) and finally rig (3). You do not need any of the other pieces in this tutorial. 

If you are using another creator’s cc, like a pose, be sure to ask for permission before sharing the decor sim with the public.

When done correctly, it should look like this. This is the sim’s frame which we will base our decor sim on. This rig will be named rig.001, just leave it be.

Step 5 - Import the .dae file

Unlike my last tutorial, this step is super easy and takes almost no time.

Go to file, then down to Import. Choose Collada (Default) (.dae). This is your sim with its rig and body exported from the game. This means that you can make decor sims of any body size, skin colour or other feature. 

Click on any of the .dae files you exported eariler.

Now you will have a new rig named rig.002. Go right ahead and delete it.

Now the body will be named something like this instead, just keep an eye what it turns into.

Now press the modifier-button (1). Then click on the Object bar on the rig modifier (2). Choose the second rig (3) and press Apply (4). 

After pressing the Apply button, you cannot move the sim’s body, so if there is something that needs to be fixed, do that before.

When that is done, delete rig.001.

Step 6 - Preparing the meshes to be merged

Now we’re gonna delete any trace that this sim used to be a moving object. Start by removing every vertex group from the sim. Delete them by clicking on the - button a whole bunch of times (1). Then rename the first UV-map to uv_0 (2) and delete the second one (3). 

This is what it should look like when you’re done.

Now we’re gonna merge the two meshes. Start by clicking on the Sims4Studio-file’s thingy I marked (1). Then press A so it looks like it does on the image. When the mesh is orange, press X to delete it. You’ll need its values, so do not delete the whole thing, only it’s mesh.

Now, click on the sim in the list of things (1). Then hold shift and click on the S4S-mesh (2). 

When they’re both marked like in the picture, press Ctrl + J, or the join button to the left.

Now it should look like this, if it’s all black, you need to go back and rename the uv-maps to uv_0. You go back by pressing Ctrl + Alt + Z.

Step 7 - Save and finish up the project.

Now save your project before doing this step. 

When it’s saved, go back to modifiers and add the Decimate-modifier. 

Chance the Ratio to anywhere between 0.6 to 0.8. I usually go with 0.7. Click apply when you’re satisfied.

Save your project again. 

If you are only making one decor sim, you’re finished here for now!! You only need to add the other LODs, so you can skip the next step. 

Step 8 - Fixing the uv-map (Not necessary for only one sim).

The uv-map is already finished if you are making only one sim, but if you are going to make a crowd, this is a very important step. Don’t worry, it’s really easy.

Open the uv-map by opening a new window and then choosing the UV/imagine Editor. Remember to enter the edit-mode on the mesh.

Press A on both windows to highlight everything.

When it’s highlighted, scale it down so that it can fit more uv-maps on it. You make it smaller by pressing S on your keyboard and you can move it by pressing G.

Make sure that it’s big enough to still be able to show textures. but small enough to allow other sims’ uv-maps to be placed beside them.

Now you’re done. Now, redo all the steps you just did but place the uv-map on another spots. You do not want them to overlap or they’ll look ugly.

When you done all that, append the decor sims together so they form one mesh and uv-map. If done correctly, it should look like this.

After that, export the uv-map like this. Name it whatever you want.

Save your work again, and decimate the mesh. Try to make it to a 0.5 ratio. This make the crowd more manageable for the game.

Save it again and minimize Blender.

Step 9 - Making the object and fixing the texture.

Okay, here comes the annoying part. Now it’s time for a lot of waiting and to put a texture on your uv-map. 

Unless you’re only making one sim, which means that you only need to import both files you just created!

Start by importing your mesh into Sim4Studio. Now this is going to make a while, the more sims you added to your crowd, the longer the waiting. I made 6 sims, so that is a very big file.

When it’s loaded into S4S, save your file, so you don’t lose any progress.

While its loading, open your imagine editing tool and prepare yourself for a lot of fiddling.

Your uv-map should look like this. So now it’s time to open every diffuse map you exported earlier in your editing tool and start matching them up.

When you’ve managed to fix the uv-map, it looks like this. This took a lot of time, as one pixel makes a big difference. Have patience when you do this part.

When you take the time, the crowd looks something like this, or hopefully a little more dapper, as mine is quite... depressed.

Step 10 - LODS and Shadow-LODS

ANYWAY let’s fix the LODs. Go back to your blender-file and decimate it with a ratio between 0.6 - 0.8. Again, I use 0.7. Press save and import it into Sims4Studio. Repeat once more for the last LOD. Save between each LOD if you are worried about losing the progress.

Last step in Blender is to make a shadow LOD.

Start by deleting this mesh (1). This is the shadow when you have the “full” object, so now it is just in the way.

When its gone, change the Cut from 1 to 0. This makes it into a shadow mesh. Save and go back into Sims4Studio.

Now you can import that same shadow-mesh into every shadow LOD. Then it’s finished, you’re done! 

Now all that’s left is to fix the Catalog name, description and tags.

Thank you so much for following my tutorial! If you have any questions, feel free to ask me🌸